Getting There
by pleasedontstoptherainxx
Summary: All Brennan wants to do is confess her true feelings for Booth, but her fear of it tearing them apart as opposed to pulling them closer is holding her back. Plenty of B&B fluffy stuff.
1. It's Like, Tom Without Jerry

**Author's Note: This is my first time ever writing a Fan Fiction on any website, so I'm a little nervous. xD Since it is my first Fan Fiction, reviews are greatly appreciated, good or bad, anything that will help me improve. Don't hesitate to point out mistakes or criticize. Hope you enjoy. =]**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bones or any of the characters. This is simply for entertainment purposes. No Copyright Infringement Intended.

Chapter One:

"It's Like, Tom Without Jerry"

Temperance Brennan dipped her clear straw, which was now bent up at the top from being chewed on, in and out of her Coke, watching the brown, carbonated liquid swish around in glass as she waited for her partner, and best friend, Seeley Booth, at Wong Fu's, twisting restlessly in the stool she was sitting in at the bar. She tapped impatiently on the dark wooden bar in front of her, wondering what was taking him so long. Booth had a tendency of being late every time she invited him to dinner. It was actually starting to irritate her. As she contemplated whether next time she invited him out, to tell him to meet her there a half an hour earlier than she was planning, she heard the heavy door of Wong Fu's swing open, and then shut in a matter of seconds.

"Sorry, Bones," Booth's voice was apologetic as he took a seat next to her at the bar, shaking some of the rain out of his hair, "I was talking to Sully about one of the cases and I lost track of time. He says hello, by the way."

Brennan sighed at the mention of her former lover, Tim Sullivan, better known to most as Sully. She could still remember everything about the day when he sailed away into the sunset, leaving her behind, in Washington DC. The only reason she didn't go off with Sully on his boat to take a year long vacation, was because of her feelings for Booth. She would never admit it, but her feelings for Booth were the reason for a lot of life changing decisions she made.

"Sully's back?" She asked, trying her best to hide the disappointment in her voice. Sully being back, was only going to cause problems. "I didn't think he'd come back to DC after his vacation. Does he even have anywhere to live here?"

"I don't know, Bones," Booth had to chuckle now, "I don't keep tabs on Sully. I thought that was your job."

"Your attempts at being funny are very poor," Brennan said simply, as Sid set down their food in front of them.

Booth ignored her last comment as they both started to eat, barely taking a second to breathe between bites, let alone engage in conversation. Occasionally, Brennan would glance at him out of the corner of her eye, but he was too absorbed in his food to notice. She'd contemplated telling him how she felt about him several times, but the negative outcomes always seemed to outweigh the positive. If he didn't feel the same way, not only would their friendship be destroyed, but their partnership as well. Working together would be way too awkward if Brennan confessed her true feelings for Booth, and he didn't feel the same way about her.

Brennan sipped on her Coke as she watched Booth out of the corner of her eye, some food still left on her plate that she wasn't intending on finishing.

"Booth?" Brennan asked, breaking the silence between them as she looked up from her glass of soda and to Booth, who turned his head to look at her now.

"What?" He asked back at her, his chocolate brown eyes having a curious look to them.

Brennan shook her head as she sipped on her soda again, blushing a very faint pinkish color as she glanced back over at him.

"Nothing," she mumbled, slightly embarrassed now, "it was just quiet and I–"

"Needed to fill the silence with the sound of your own voice?" Booth cut her off, a playful grin on his face as she blushed a little more now.

"No," she said defensively, picking up her fork and pushing around some of the food on her plate, her eyes locked on the food so she could avoid eye contact, "you make me sound like a child when you say it like that. "

"Come on, Bones, not just children fill the silence," Booth encouraged her, nudging her arm gently and playfully with his elbow, "I do it all the time."

"That's because you're childish," Brennan shrugged, not even realize how harsh that sounded, since she wasn't very good at being playfully mean.

Booth had to laugh softly now at her attempt to be affectionate. When he insulted her, it was always clear that he was just being playful, but when she did it to him, she sounded so serious, that sometimes it took him a minute to figure out if she actually was. But today, he felt like messing around with her, pretending he couldn't read her like a book.

"You know, you're pretty rude sometimes," he said, his voice flat.

"Booth," she laughed softly now, her eyes shimmering as she nudged him with her elbow the way he did to her only a few minutes ago, "come on, you know I was just pulling your arm."

"_Leg_, Bones," he corrected her, rolling his eyes to the ceiling, a smile on his face as he took a sip of his beer, "pulling your _leg_."

She ignored him, the way she always did when he corrected her with mistakes in things like that, and set her fork down, taking the last sip of her soda.

"I'm going to take some of my vacation days," Brennan said, changing the subject as she prodded at the ice in her cup with her straw now.

"Why?" Booth asked, tearing his gaze away from the wall to look at her curiously.

"I don't know," Brennan shrugged, stopping with the straw when she realized how annoying it probably was to the people around her, "I need some time off."

"But, Bones," Booth used his best persuasive voice now, "what if a case comes up? I'm not going to have my partner. What good is an FBI agent without his forensic anthropologist? It's like, Tom without Jerry. It just doesn't make sense."

"I don't know what that means," Brennan shook her head at his 'Tom and Jerry' comment as she looked at him again, "but I'm sure Zach will be an exceptional replacement for me if you need to work on a case with a for-"

"Woah, woah, woah," Booth cut her off, putting his hand up to motion for her to stop talking, "No. No. N-O. No. Absolutely not."

"I know how to spell no," she muttered before he continued.

"There is absolutely no way in hell I'm working with Zach, do you understand?" he asked, looking at her seriously, as if this were a life of death situation.

"Why not?" Brennan asked, puzzled now, "He's excellent at his job, he's smart, and, he learned from me, so we have the same tactics. He would naturally be the best replacement if you needed to work with an anthropologist who operates like I do, Booth."

"You know, Bones, when exactly are you taking your vacation time?" Booth asked, a glimmer in his eye now, the one he gets when he has an idea.

"Well today is Friday, so from Monday to next Friday, I guess," Brennan shrugged, seeing the look in his eyes now as she eyed him curiously, "why?"

He held his hand up to hush her as he flipped his phone open and pressed a number on speed dial, keeping his hand held up to her until he started to speak after a few rings.

"Hi, yes, it's Special Agent Seeley Booth," he spoke into the phone as Brennan watched him, knowing he was up to no good.

She turned her attention to the wall now as she focused on some other people's conversations her eyes darting around the room until they landed on a couple in one of the booths in the corner, holding hands on top of the table as they looked into each other's eyes endearingly. Brennan let her mind drift as she stared at them, imagining that being her and Booth. She imagined his hand on hers, his other arm wrapped around her waist as they cuddled in the booth at 'their' restaurant, Wong Fu's. He'd take his hand off hers, slip it under her chin, turn her head to face him and kiss her gently on the lips.

"Bones!" Booth grabbed her attention, jerking her out of her daydream as she turned to him now, her eyes looking slightly alarmed at the sudden noise.

"What?" She asked, confused as to why he was yelling her name.

Booth chuckled as he shook his head at her.

"I called your name like five times and you weren't answering me," he chuckled, getting to the point of what he was going to tell her now, "guess who's on vacation from Monday to next Friday? Just take a guess."

Booth smirked when he saw the annoyed expression on her face.

"Booth!" She complained, "Why'd you have to go and do that?"

"Come on, Bones, it'll be fun," he promised her, "We're going to spend some quality vacation time together. Maybe we'll go ice skating, or go see a movie, or go to th-"

"I was planning on working on my novel," Brennan interrupted, "And who said just because we're on vacation time at the same time that we're going to spend it together?"

"Come on, Bones, it'll be fun," he repeated himself.

"You said that already," she mumbled, resuming prodding at the ice in her glass with the straw, "give me one good reason why I should agree to spending my hard earned vacation time with you, when I have to see you everyday at work."

"Because," he spoke slowly, "It. Will. Be. Fun. How many times do I gotta tell you that? Fun. You know, Happy? Smiling? Laughter? Interacting with people who are actually alive for a change instead of hovering over that autopsy table playing with your bones?"

Brennan sighed as she jammed her straw down in the ice, looking at him.

"Fine," she caved into his reasoning, "I guess nothing bad could come in spending a little non work related time with you."

"Alright," Booth smiled widely, nudging her with his elbow again as he stood up from the bar stool and took her arm to help her up as well, "let's go, Jerry. It's getting late."

"My name is not Jerry," she said, clearly not understanding the joke, as Booth just laughed and led her outside, not before taking his jacket off and handing it to her to shield her from the rain.


	2. We're Not A Couple We're Partners

**A/N: Thank you everyone so much for the reviews. Honestly, when I woke up and saw them, it made my morning. :] I'm so grateful people not only took the time to read it, but took the time to comment on it. I got a question asking where this is in the season, and the honest answer is I'm not really sure. Since I'm planning on including both Sweets and Zach, I guess we're somewhere in season three. :]**

Chapter Two:

"Id' Much Rather Be Looking At Dead Things"

It was about eleven in the morning, and Brennan was sitting at her kitchen table with her laptop, completely focused on the novel she was working on. The only thing that pulled her out of her thoughts was the start of some loud and obnoxious banging on the door. Huffing, she saved her document and pressed her laptop closed, the knocking stopping for only a couple seconds before it started again, seeming to get louder this time.

"Bones!" Booth's voice was loud through the door, as she made her way leisurely over to open it, "Bones! Open up, will ya'?"

Brennan picked up the pace a little bit when the incessant knocking started to irritate her, and yanked the door open, catching him mid-knock. She crossed her arms over her chest as she glared at him, almost as if she were trying to see right through him.

"Come on, Bones, ice skating time," Booth chirped, as he stepped past her into the house without invitation.

He turned to look at her, and examined her outfit, which consisted of a long sleeved maroon v-neck shirt that clung to her body, and a pair of jeans that seemed to fit her just right, complete with her usually chunky, beaded necklace that pressed against the exposed skin from the v-neck. Her shoes were no more ice skating appropriate than her outfit. They were almost the same color as her shirt, had about a one inch heel, and were pointed at the end. Booth chuckled when he saw her choice in ice skating attire.

"You need a jacket," he observed, "and gloves. And you may want to bring socks."

"I did bring socks," Brennan reached into her bag and pulled out a pair of socks, which were neatly tucked into each other, "I know what I'm doing."

"Apparently not," Booth chuckled, "like I said, you need a jacket and gloves."

Brennan tried to hide the annoyance in her expression as she picked up her jacket, which she had just flung on the back of the couch one night after a long day of work, and slipped it over her shoulders, before she went to get a pair of gloves from her closet. After she was finished preparing, she followed Booth outside and into his SUV, ready for a long and grueling day.

Brennan stopped short when Booth stepped in front of her and to the front counter, rolling her eyes at his constant need to be in charge. Couldn't he just stand behind her? Or next to her?

"Oh, we're having a Couple's Discount for the entire month of February, if you're interested," the lady at the counter informed Booth when he went to pay.

Brennan cut in quickly.

"Oh, no we're not a-"

"Great, thanks for telling us, we'll take it," he cut her off, handing the lady the money.

"Booth," Brennan complained, once they were at the skate rental counter, "we're not a couple. We're partners."

"Come on, discount, Bones," he chuckled, "does it matter if we're not really a couple? It's not like once you pay the Couple's Discount, they make you have sex on the ice."

Brennan just rolled her eyes at his last comment and followed behind him.

"What size are you?" Booth asked, turning his head to look at Brennan now.

"I really don't feel comfortable discussing that with you," she said simply, blushing lightly at the question.

"Shoe size, Bones," he rolled his eyes at how she thought everything was either code for something sexual or was a sexual question, "for the skates."

"Oh," Brennan blushed a bright red as she tried to keep her composure, "well it really depends on the way the skate fits. Now usually, I'm an eight, but sometimes, if the shoe, or skate in this case, is cut in such a way that it doesn't conform with the shape of my feet, the-"

"Eight," Booth cut her off, mid explanation, "she's an eight."

Brennan glared at the back of his head, highly annoyed when he interrupted her.

"What?" he chuckled, when he turned around to see the angry expression on her face.

"You know I hate when you do that," she said simply, "and you choose to do it anyway."

"It's just me being affectionate," he assured her, as the man behind the counter handed them their skates and they went to put them on.

Once Brennan had her skates on, she stood up, struggling to keep her balance on the blades of the figure skates. She clumsily made her way towards the rink, making sure not to bump into or step on anyone by accident.

"Hey, wait up," Booth chuckled as he finished lacing up his skates and quickly caught up to her, since he had more practice walking on them than she did.

"This isn't fair," Brennan complained already, stopping when she got to the little door that led onto the ice, "you played hockey. You have experience on skates."

"You've never been ice skating before?" Booth asked, slightly amused.

"I don't see why that's funny," she said, when she saw the amused expression on his face, as she went to step onto the ice.

When she got both feet onto the ice, she held her arms out to try and keep her balance, while she skidded her feet frantically, in an attempt to move.

"Bones, simmer down," Booth chuckled as he joined her on the ice, grabbing onto her hand to steady her before she fell, "baby steps."

She held tight onto his hand, controlling the blush that wanted so badly to creep onto her cheeks as he practically dragged her along, helping her get her bearings. They skated in silence for the first few minutes, since Brennan was too focused on her feet to engage in small talk at the beginning, but once she started to get more comfortable on the skates, Booth spoke.

"See, isn't this more fun than work?"

"I'd much rather be looking at dead things," she responded, being her usual, brutally honest self, "but, admittedly, this isn't as bad as I was anticipating. "

Booth smiled a bright, Booth-y grin as he skated with her, glad that she was at least having some fun, even if she'd rather be working. After only a couple more minutes of skating hand-in-hand, Brennan finally let go, sliding herself slowly along.

"Hey! Booth!" She called to him, excitedly, "Look!"

Just as Booth was about to shout her some words of encouragement and praise, she lost her balance swinging her arms frantically around before her feet finally came out from under her and she landed with a thud onto the ice. Booth tried to control his laugher as he skated over to her, a couple snickers escaping his lips every now and then.

"Jesus , Bones, are you okay?" He asked, stifling his laughter.

"It's not funny," she complained, not answering his question, "technically gravity was more of the cause for my fall than I actually was. And besides, it's not natural for someone to be sliding along ice on blades. Human beings were made to walk, or run. Our human instinct is not to slide."

"Yeah, but," Booth snickered now, completely ignoring her whole explanation on why she fell, "you fell on your ass, Bones."

"Help me up," she ignored his laughter, holding her hand up.

When he grabbed her hand, instead of pulling herself up, she simply pulled him, so his skates slid out from under him as well, and he was on the ground next to her in a matter of seconds. They both laughed as some people who were trying to pass gave them disapproving looks.

"Now we're even," Brennan smiled triumphantly, using the wall to pull herself up as Booth did the same, "what are we doing after this?"

"I haven't really gotten that far yet," Booth admitted, brushing some of the snow that the blades created from the ice off of his pants, "why?"

Brennan shrugged and smiled, looking up at him.

"Because I was hoping it wouldn't include as much coordination as this does."

Booth chuckled and rolled his eyes playfully.

"Are you quitting already?" He asked, his eyes playfully daring as he looked at her.

"No," Brennan said defensively, "I've simply gotten my fill of ice skating. A person only needs so much physical stimulation before they start to tire of it."

"You make it sound like people are robots," Booth commented, a smile on his face, "like if you get more 'physical stimulation' than you need, you're going to malfunction."

"That's highly improbable," Brennan said, taking his words literally.

"Joke, Bones," he informed her, "you're not very good at reading people."

"Well shouldn't you know that by now?" She asked, "That's your thing."

"Right. You have your science and intelligence, and I have my people skills."

"If I'm going to be honest, I'd much rather posses my skills than yours."

"You're only saying that because you're jealous that I can actually relate with other human beings," he held his hand up before she could rebut, "and don't say that relationships are irrelevant, because you and I both know that they're not."

Brennan shrugged as they stepped off the ice now and went to switch back into their shoes, since Booth could see that she was already growing tired of ice skating.

"Well I think I do a good enough job maintaining a relationship with you," Brennan said, her voice quiet, "and Angela, and Hodgins, and Cam, and Sweets, and Zach."

"Zach has the social skills of a gnat." Booth informed her.

"I'm serious, Booth," she said, looking up at him seriously as she slipped her socks off and her high heels back on while sitting on the floor, beneath where he was on the bench, "do you really think I have bad social skills?"

"Yes," Booth chuckled, rubbing her shoulder and smiling down at her sweetly, "but you know that too. It's part of what makes you, you. It would be boring if you had good social skills."

Brennan smiled back, rolling her eyes playfully as she finished putting her shoes back on and stood up, skates in hand as she waited for him. After he was done, he stood up from the bench and walked with her back to the counter to return the skates.

"Here we are," Booth pulled up in front of her house, rain pelting the windshield of his SUV as the windshield wipers went to work, "let me walk you to the door."

"Booth, that's really not necessary," Brennan informed him, but before she could even finish, he was already getting out of the car.

She held her bag over her head as she and Booth ran to the front door, getting under the awning over her front porch to get out of the rain as quickly as they could.

"It's supposed to rain like this for the entire week," Booth informed her.

"I know," she responded, "I heard."

They were both quiet for a minute as Brennan dug around for her keys in her purse, when she finally got them, she zipped the bag closed and looked at him.

"Booth?" She asked, even though he was the only one there.

"Yeah, Bones?" He responded curiously.

"I had fun today," she admitted, "I, enjoyed spending time with you more than the actual activity we took part in, but regardless, it was fun."

"Thanks, Bones," he smiled, "I had fun too."

Brennan looked at her hands as her mind raced.

_Tell him how you feel. Tell him how you feel._

"Do I get a hug?" She asked, ignoring her mind screaming at her.

"Of course," Booth chuckled, wrapping her up in his arms, his shirt soaking wet.

Brennan hugged him tight, her heart fluttering. She never wanted to let go. Her mind started to race through the thoughts again.

_Tell him. Don't tell him. Tell him. Don't tell him. _

When he let go of her, and went to walk off the porch, she stopped him.

"Booth?" she asked, her voice meek and nervous.

"What?" He asked, turning back to her.

Her heart was pounding, and her palms were sweating. She was going to do it. She was about to tell her partner and long time friend that she was in love with him.

"Be careful driving in the rain," she said, too afraid to tell him what she was really going to.

"Okay," he chuckled, "have a good rest of the day, Bones."

He turned to walk off the porch again, before she stopped him for a second time.

"Wait, Booth!" She called again, as he turned to her.

"What?" He asked, slightly annoyed now.

"Can we go to dinner later? Like at five or six?"

"Sure, I'll be there at five thirty. Where do you want to go?"

"Well we just had Wong Fu's last night, so how about the diner?"

"Fine," he smiled to her before he left, "I'll see you then."

Brennan smiled back before she went inside and went to take a shower, so she'd have time to get ready before she had to meet Booth and the diner. She felt a strange sort of jittery feeling inside her stomach when she thought about their 'date' for five thirty. As she went to the bathroom and turned on the shower, she admitted it fully to herself for the first time ever.

_I'm in love with Seeley Booth._


	3. He Was Being Romantic

**A/U: First off, I want to sincerely thank everyone for the alerts and the reviews I've gotten. The reviews I've gotten have been so kind, and I honestly don't think you all know how great it makes me feel when I read them. 3 Second, I just wanted to let you guys know that it might be just a little longer between updates now, since as much as I have published now, is as much as I have written. But I'll try to update at least once a day. =] **

Chapter Three:

"He Was Being Romantic"

"Angela, it wasn't a date. We just went ice skating." Brennan explained to her co-worker, and female best friend, Angela Montenegro, over the phone.

Brennan had her cell phone pressed to her ear as she slid on her black heels, that were similar looking to the pair she was wearing before, just matching better color wise with the black blouse she changed into. When she stepped outside, she was grateful that it was only drizzling, so the rain didn't frizz her hair out before she even got to the diner. She held her purse pathetically over her head as she fast walked to her car, trying to focus on getting down the pathway to the car unscathed and Angela's words on the other end of the phone at the same time.

"_Did he hold your hand?" _Angela asked.

"Well, yes, but it was only because I was falling," Brennan replied simply, getting into the car and putting her keys into the ignition to start it up.

"_That's a date move, Brennan!" _Angela sighed at how oblivious her best friend was, _"He was being romantic."_

"He wasn't being romantic, he was being a good friend," Brennan said, stubbornly.

"_Sweetie, Booth has been in love with you since the day you met."_

"Has he ever told you this?"

"_Well, no."_

"So you have no proof of this, you're just guessing."

"_You can identify a dead body from a pinky finger, but you can't see how crazy he is for you? He's putting himself out there. I think he's afraid to make the first move, which is why you have to. Take charge, Bren." _

"I've never actually identified a body from a single phalange."

"_See, you're changing the subject because you know I'm right."_

"No I wasn't, I was just informing you that your statement was incorrect."

"_Brennan," _Angela huffed, seeing that this back and forth was getting no where, _"I don't know how you can't see just from the way he looks at you."_

"I'm bad at reading people, just ask Booth," Brennan said, parallel parking on the side of the road as she got out and started to walk towards the diner.

"_Sweetie, it's so obvious, Stevie Wonder can see it."_

"I don't know what that means."

Angela huffed in irritation, forgetting that she couldn't make pop culture references around her.

"_Stevie Wonder. He's blind? He sings and plays the piano? Signed, Sealed, Delivered? My Cherie Amour? I Just Called To Say I Love You?"_

"Ange, I love you too, but I really have to go, I just got to the diner."

"_No, sweetie, that's the name of the so-"_

Brennan had already clicked the off button on her phone and stuffed it back into her purse before Angela could finish her sentence. She was pleasantly surprised when she saw Booth at the table they always sat at, seeming slightly restless and bored as he waited for her.

"Hey, Bones, you made it," his lips turned up into a Booth-y smile when she sat across from him, setting her purse in her lap as she smiled back, "I was just about to call and see if you decided to ditch me for Sully or something."

"Booth, it's been a year, Sully and I aren't anything anymore," Brennan said simply.

"Are you sure?" Booth asked, his eyes playful as he looked at her, "because the two of you were pretty, cozy."

"Yes, Sully and I slept together," she confirmed, "but I've slept with a lot of people that I don't even talk to anymore. Haven't you?"

Brennan was oblivious to how uncomfortable this conversation was making him as she watched the young brunette waitress set down their food in front of them. Booth ordered for her, since he knew what she would have wanted. A salad and a Coke. He felt saved by the waitress when she set down their food, and quickly changed the subject.

"Hey, pass me the ketchup, will ya', Bones?"

Reluctantly, Brennan passed the ketchup across the table to him, knowing that he purposely avoided the question, but not really pressing the issue. It wasn't a big deal anyway.

They ate for the first few minutes in silence, neither of them having much to say. Angela's words had Brennan's mind occupied. Maybe he did have the same feelings for her. But she didn't want to tell him how she felt until she was sure.

"Hey, Booth?" Brennan asked, not looking up from her salad, to make it seem like she was just creating small talk, "can I ask you something?"

"_You're_ asking _me_ a question?" Booth asked, slightly shocked at this, "Since, according to you, all logical answers can be proved with science, why don't you just ask a test tube or something?"

"Booth, a test tube is an inanimate object. It couldn't possibly give me a rational answer."

"I was-You know, never mind. Just ask."

"If you loved somebody, would you tell them?" She asked.

"Is this about Sully?" Booth asked back at her, not answering the question.

"No! It's not about Sully! What is with your fixation on Sully? Can you please just give me a simple yes or no answer?"

"Well, yes, of course. Isn't that the whole point of a relationship? You're dating for a little while, and eventually you fall in love? The relationship can't move forward if neither person says those three 'magic' words."

"There's no such thing as magic," she said, simply, "but putting that aside, I don't mean someone you're dating. I mean, if you loved someone you weren't supposed to. Like, if you were in love with someone, but loving them could very possibly get you in trouble."

"What the hell are you talking about, Bones?" He asked, completely lost now.

"Have you ever slept with someone you worked with?" She asked, as if that were a very normal and innocent question.

"Woah," he said, his eyes widening in shock as she just looked at him with a clueless expression, seeing nothing wrong with her question, "do you really think this is an appropriate topic for a diner?"

"Well I'm asking you, not the rest of the customers," she shrugged, "So, yes. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with this discussion. I'm actually finding it quite stimulating."

"Well I'm disagreeing with you on this one, Bones," he said, looking at his plate to avoid the way she was looking at him, "why don't we talk about something, normal, for once? Like baseball. Or football. Or maybe, a new movie that's coming out."

"Those don't sound like very interesting topics. I'd much rather stay on this one."

Booth huffed, knowing that she'd never let it go, because that was just the way she was.

"Why do you care so much who I've slept with?" He asked.

"I don't," Brennan assured him, "I was just curious to know if you've ever had a sexual relationship with a co-worker. Because I've heard that being romantically involved with someone you work with could get you in ice water."

"_Hot_ water, not ice water." He corrected her.

"That doesn't make much sense," she said, taking a bite of her salad, "I'd much rather bathe in hot water than in ice water."

"Who told you this anyway?"

"Sweets."

"So you listen to Sweets now?"

"Sweets has had some successful relationships."

"Sweets is twelve! What does he know? He still thinks girls have cooties."

Brennan looked up from her salad and gave him 'the look'.

"Can you just answer my original question?"

Booth huffed again, finally giving into her begging.

"No, the answer is no. I've never slept with a co-worker."

"Thank you," Brennan said, still mind boggled as to why it took so long to pry such a simple answer out of him, "see? That wasn't so bad. I don't know why you get so flustered when the topic of sex comes up. It's a completely natural process."

"Yeah, that's great, Bones," he said, holding his hand up to signal for her to stop talking, "now can we just relax on the sex talk until I finish my dinner?"

"I can't believe it's raining again," Booth muttered as they stood under the awning out front of the diner, neither of them wanting to step out into the storm quite yet, "you'd think the clouds would just, be empty by now."

"Actually, they're all different clouds," Brennan informed him.

Booth didn't even respond, feeling in no mood to get into an argument with her about how she took everything way too literally.

"Do you want me to drive you home?" He asked.

"I'm not an invalid," she reminded him, "and what would I do with my car?"

"Gee, I don't know, leave it until morning?" He suggested, the sarcasm detectable in his voice, "Bones, I'd really just feel better if I drove you home. My SUV is much better in the rain than your piece of crap car."

"My car is not a piece of crap," she said, feeling slightly offended when he insulted her car, "but if it's really that big of a deal to you, then you can drive me home."

By the time they reached Brennan's house, the rain had gotten even worse, pelting loudly on the ground as thunder cracked violently and flashes lit up the sky. When they got out of the car, they made a dash for the door, getting under the awning as quickly as possible.

"Thank you for driving me home," Brennan shouted over the rain.

"No problem," he assured her, "but I should probably get going now, before this gets even worse than it already is. I'll see you tomorrow, Bones. Maybe we'll do a movie."

He made his way quickly down the steps of the porch, but Brennan stopped him before he could get too far away, feeling as if she wasn't even in control of her own mouth.

"Booth!" She yelled, over the rain, "Booth!"

"What?" Booth asked, turning around as the rain pelted his face.

Brennan made her way down the steps of her porch and met him in the middle walkway.

"Bones, what the hell are you doing?" He asked, "get inside."

"I love you," she yelled over the rain, wincing when the rain pelted her face.

Booth felt as if his entire world was just flipped upside down when he heard the words 'I love you' come out of her mouth. Did she just say she loved him? Or did he mishear her, since the rain was so loud?

"What was that?" He yelled back, completely soaking wet at this point.

"I love you," she repeated herself, wrapping her arms around his neck, taking him completely by surprise as she lowered her voice a little now, "I love you, Seeley."

When he just stared at her like she was completely insane, she felt a mixture of disappointed, hurt, and foolish. She knew it was a bad idea to tell him how she felt, but she did it anyway. She went to unwrap her arms from his neck, feeling like she was going to crumble, until he grabbed her by the waist and pressed his lips to hers, magic seeming to happen as soon as their lips connected. After only a couple seconds, Brennan pulled away, and Booth was slightly confused as to why she did.

"Do you love me too?" She asked quietly, since he never said it back.

"Temperance," she felt her spine tingle when he used her first name, "I think I can show you better than I can tell you."

And with that, he lifted her up, letting her wrap her legs around his waist before he carried her swiftly inside and to her bedroom.


	4. You Never Said It Back

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your support with alerts and reviews, it's honestly really great to know that people are enjoying something that I'm working so hard on. Also, I'm apologizing for all the little errors in the last post. I was reading it back, and thinking: "dear God, I really screwed this one up." xD (I even wrote A/U instead of A/N. Was I sleeping?) It was three in the morning, and I was so ready for bed by the time I was editing, that I kind of just skimmed and missed some mistakes. I'm hoping there's enough fluff for everyone so far. =]**

Chapter Four:

"You Never Said It Back"

_I did it._ Brennan's mind reminded her triumphantly. _I took charge._

She had her elbow propped up on her pillow and her head resting in her hand as she trailed the fingers of her free hand over Booth's bare chest, just watching his sleeping face. He looked so peaceful when he slept, like all the worries of the world were just washed away when he drifted off into the privacy of his own mind, and she loved that.

Brennan laid back flat on her back after a few seconds and snuggled close to him, letting him put his arm naturally around her shoulders without waking up to do so. She rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes, just replaying the night prior through her mind over and over again. On about the third replay, she realized something was missing. He never actually ever told her that he loved her back.

"Hey, Booth," she whispered, sitting up now as she shook his shoulder gently, "Booth, wake up."

He mumbled something inaudible in his sleep before he turned over onto his stomach.

"Booth!" Brennan's voice was in a louder whisper as her shakes became slightly more vigorous, "Booth!"

"What?" He groaned in a half asleep stage, his words slightly muffled by the pillow.

"Wake up," she repeated herself, "I have to ask you something, but I won't get a rational or honest response until you're actually awake."

"Bones, it's early," he complained, "why don't you ask Angela?"

"Because, this is a question for you," she explained, running her fingers gently over his shoulder blade to try to coax him awake, "c'mon, Booth, it's important."

Booth took a deep breath before he sat up next to her, wincing at the light streaming through her window as he rubbed his still only half open eyes.

"What is it, Bones?" He asked.

"Do you love me?" She asked back at him, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

"Of course I love you, Bones. I can't believe you're even asking me that after last night."

"You never said it back. Now, don't get me wrong, last night was very satisfying. The sex, I mean. But, outside, before the sex," she looked at him curiously before she continued, since he seemed to be slightly embarrassed when she said the word 'sex', "I told you I loved you, but you never said it back. You said you'd show me, with the sex, I'm assuming, but you never actually said it."

"Bones, I kinda thought after the," he paused, blushing just the slightest bit.

"Sex?"

"Would ya' stop? With the sex thing?"

"Well that's what it was," she said, defensively, "would you rather me say intercourse?"

"No," he assured her quickly, before he continued with what he was trying to tell her before that, "I just thought after the, sex, that you'd know. But I do love you, Bones. I have, for a long time."

"That's what Angela said," Brennan informed him.

"You told Angela already?"

"No, she told me that yesterday, and many times before that."

"Angela reads people better than I do. That girl has a sixth sense."

"It's scientifically impossible for somebody to have a sixth sense. What she does i-"

Booth silenced her by pressing his lips to hers. Brennan smiled through their kiss as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him to her so he was back on top of her, pinning her gently to the bed as they kissed.

"You know, you look very sexy with your hair all messed up and your make up smudged from the rain," he informed her, his lips trailing slowly down her neck now, "very, Courtney Love, before she completely lost her mind."

"I don't know-" Brennan paused to let a small sound of appreciation slip from her lips, "-what that means."

"Shh," he hushed her, pressing a finger gently to her lips, "just play along, Bones."

Brennan responded with only a meek nod as he reconnected their lip, kissing her very slowly and gently at first. Brennan wrapped her arms tight around his neck, wrapping her fingers up in the back of his hair, until the sound of her phone ringing pulled her out of the moment.

"Sorry," she apologized, pulling away from him and reaching over to the night stand next to her bed to pick up her ringing phone, "Brennan."

Booth just moved his lips back to her neck when she picked up her phone.

_"Sweetie!" _Angela's voice was chirpy on the other end of the phone.

"Hey, Ange," Brennan tried not to giggle when he kissed her tickle spot.

_"You sound happy," _she observed, _"how did your 'not date' with Booth go last night?"_

Brennan had stopped paying attention to Angela by this point, as she giggled, and wrapped the fingers of her free hand back up in his hair.

_"Bren?" _Angela asked, starting to get slightly confused.

"Mmm, there," Brennan encouraged him with a soft moan, when he kissed her shoulder.

_"Brennan!" _Angela pulled her back into the conversation.

"Oh! Sorry Ange," Brennan blushed, knowing she'd been caught, "what was the question?"

_"Who are you with?" _Angela asked, in a stern voice.

"That wasn't the question you asked before," Brennan informed her.

_"Brennan," _Angela said, her tone serious, _"Who?"_

"No one," Brennan lied, covering his mouth to stop him, wanting to make sure she didn't let another giggle or moan slip through her lips, "who would I be with at this hour?"

_"Why don't you tell me?" _Angela asked, knowing she wasn't being honest with her.

"I just told you, I'm not with anyone. I'm not the best at reading people, but it seems as if you don't think I'm telling the truth."

_"Because you're not," _Angela laughed softly, _"come on, Bren. We're best friends. We're supposed to tell each other everything. Ooh! Are you back with Sully?"_

"What?" She asked, Angela's question catching her off guard, "No, I'm not."

_"Sweetie, don't sound ashamed," _Angela encouraged her, convinced, from the way she hesitated, that it had to be Sully, _"he's a whole lot of man. I mean, he's no Seeley Booth, but they can't all be. I'm sure so many girls are drooling at the fact that Booth's back on the market, now that you're back with Sully, I mean."_

"Angela, I'm not back with Sully."

_"Or maybe you can date them both. But that might cause some conflict."_

"Ange I-"

_"It's kind of hard to keep two men from meeting when they're already working in the same building everyday. But I'm sure you could pull it off. I mean, Booth's with you at work most of the time anyway, so he-"_

Brennan stopped paying attention to her at this point, and was watching Booth as he examined his clothes, which still looked dark and wet from the rain, even hours after they got inside. The only dry piece of his clothing were his boxers, and he had already put those back on to cover himself up.

"My clothes are still wet," he informed her, holding up his damp shirt.

Brennan held her phone to her chest to make sure Angela didn't hear her talking to someone else and start complaining about how she wasn't listening to her.

"The laundry room is down the hall," she instructed him, "you can put them in the dryer if you want."

She held the phone back up to her ear to hear that Angela was still talking, but had left the Booth issue behind and was only talking about Sully now.

"And walk around half naked until they're dry?" He asked.

Brennan pressed her finger to her own lips, to signal for him to be quiet, since she knew his voice was loud enough for Angela to hear on the other end of the phone. She knew her point had been proven when there was a long pause on the other end of the line.

"Ange?" Brennan asked, "did we disconnect?"

_"Was that Booth?" _Angela asked, her voice audibly shocked and excited.

"No," Brennan lied.

_"Yes it was!" _Angela called her out, _"I know that man's voice when I hear it."_

"Ange, it was the radio."

_"So Booth has a radio show now?"_

"Angela, Booth does not have the qualifications, nor the fame and exposure to have his own radio show."

_"I was just proving a point, sweetie, not actually asking. So how was it?"_

"How was what?"

_"Sex with Booth!"_

"It wasn't anything because it didn't happen."

_"Is he as good in the sack as he looks?"_

"Angela!"

_"Come on, Brennan! You're my only direct source of this information!"_

Brennan sighed and rolled her eyes at how persistent she was.

"Ange, I gotta go," she lied.

_"But, Brennan, I was jus-"_

Brennan flipped her phone shut, pretending that she didn't hear Angela start to talk again as she laid back down on her back and covered her face with her hands. She felt Booth slide back into bed next to her, but she didn't budge."

"What's with the long face, Bones?" Booth asked, taking her hands off her face and laying her arms back down at her sides for her.

"Well I didn't choose my own skull structure, Booth," she informed him, "and my face isn't any longer than the average person. Actually, some people have told me that I have an unusually petite face, but that may just be the way my-"

"Figurative speech, Bones. I mean, why do you seem upset?"

"You could have just said that to being with," she muttered before answering him, "I hope you don't mind going public."

"Public?" He asked, "with what?"

"This," she answered, gesturing towards the both of them.

"No, I guess not, but why?" He asked.

"Angela knows, and you know Angela. She said she heard you talking, and I tried to convince her she was just hearing things, but she didn't seem to buy it. I wouldn't be surprised if the entire staff of the Jeffersonian _and_ the FBI know by now."

"Hey, I don't mind," Booth smiled charmingly at her, "what do I have to be ashamed of?"

"Nothing," Brennan assured him, not even noticing how full of herself she sounded, "I'm exceptionally smart, young, attractive, successful, a-"

"Bones, your ego is showing," he chuckled, pressing a kiss to the line of her jaw, "just leave it to me to compliment you on how sexy and smart you are."

"Don't forget successful," she reminded him, running her fingers gingerly over the back of his neck.

"I was getting there," he assured her, a small smile on his lips as he pressed them back to hers.

Brennan kissed him quite softly as she moved her hands back to his chest, sliding her fingers slowly down the soft, warm, skin of his stomach.

"Mmm, Bones," he moaned gently into her mouth, "you're teasing me."

Brennan smiled and disconnected their lips, pressing gentle kisses to the side of his neck.

"I think I forgot how much you love me already," she smirked suggestively.

"I'd be glad to jog your memory for you," he smirked back.

"Good," Brennan peeked up at him now, "You can jog my memory as often as you'd like."

Booth smiled down at her now, thoroughly satisfied with the permission she gave. He never imagined that they'd be there, and he had to remind himself that it was real every so often.

"I love you, Temperance," he made his promise to her quick, since he could see she was in no mood for talking, as he pulled the covers back over their heads.


	5. Do You Live Under A Rock?

**A/N: Hello, everyone. =] I had some extra time on my hands today, so I'll probably post twice today instead of the usual once. Once now and once tonight. Chapter four was pretty much fluff in it's purest form, and this chapter is pretty much filler in it's purest form, so I'm apologizing in advanced. The next chapter should be getting back to the story line, I just needed to lead up with this chapter first. And thank you for the alerts and reviews too. =]**

Chapter Five:

"Do You Live Under A Rock?"

Brennan listened to his jagged breathing as she kissed gently up his torso, until she reached his chest, where she laid her head back down and struggled for her own breath.

"Is it unusual," Brennan started, speaking between breaths, "that I could very happily do that for hours?"

"If it is, then I guess I need to be checked out too," Booth chuckled as his fingers trailed up and down her back, tracing gently over her spine.

Brennan closed her eyes, goose bumps popping up involuntarily on her arms at even the slightest bit of skin contact.

"I should probably go get my car soon," she pondered aloud as his fingers continued in their pattern, "and then I should probably stop by the Jeffersonian and make sure Zach can handle what ever they're working on."

"Bones, you're on vacation," Booth reminded her, "the squint squad can handle it."

"But you don't understand, Booth," she opened her eyes and peered up at him now, "my colleagues are exceptional at their jobs, but, I just feel like I need to be there to oversee. If it means anything to you I won't touch anything."

"When you take your vacation days it's supposed to be because you need to get away from work," he explained, "go to the bar, have a drink, sleep in, you know, vacation stuff."

"My vacations are to third world countries," she said, her look to him quizzical, "there's not many bars, and sleeping in is usually not an option."

"Do you ever just, relax?"

"Of course I relax. I'm relaxing right now."

"It's barely relaxing when you're getting all worked up."

"Well, you're _getting_ me worked up by scolding me on my vacation choices."

"I wasn't scolding you, I was making a suggestion."

Brennan buried her head in his chest and let out a long sigh.

"I'm starting to think it's impossible to not argue with you," she said, her words muffled by the skin of his chest, "look at us. We're lying in bed together and we're still bickering. "

"That wasn't bickering, it was a discussion," Booth informed her, a smile playing on the edge of his lips as he purposely tried to get a rise out of her.

Brennan picked her head up from his chest and scooted up slightly so she could rest it back on her pillow.

"Oh, come on, Bones, I was only messing with you," he promised when she moved away from him, "don't be so sensitive."

"I'm not being sensitive," she said, turning to face him as she ran her hands over his face, able to feel the stubble of his two or three day old beard under her fingers, "I just couldn't see you from down there."

"Temperance, you don't know how good it feels to hear you say things like that."

"Well you're the one who always told me that honesty is the base of a relationship. You said if a relationship lacks honesty, then it might as well be non existent. I'm pretty sure you said something about it sinking like titanium."

"The Titanic, Bones, not titanium."

"I don't know what that means."

"You're kidding me, right?" His tone was slightly more animated now, "you've never_ heard _of the Titanic? The boat or the movie? Do you live under a rock?"

"It's just a movie, Booth! Don't get so worked up over it," Brennan said, looking at him with a confused expression.

"It's one of the most famous movies of all time. Come on, Bones. Every girl has been completely in love with Leonardo DiCaprio at one point or another."

"Who?"

"Forget it," he gave in, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to him.

Brennan closed her eyes, satisfied with his response as she rested her head on his shoulder and let him hold onto her, just laying with him in silence. She was about to say something, until the sharp ringing of her cell phone cut her off.

"You're popular today," Booth observed, as she reached over to her phone, but just clicked the silent button instead of answering, "aren't you going to get that?"

"It was Sweets, but I'm not going to answer. I'm on vacation, remember?" She smiled up at him, nuzzling her head into his neck.

Booth just smiled back at her, his phone starting to ring now. Mumbling some profanities under his breath, he checked the caller ID on the screen of his phone, reading '_Sweets_'.

"It's Sweets, it might be important if he called us both," he said, the irritation in his voice very noticeable as he pressed his phone to his ear, "Booth."

"_Agent Booth," _Sweets let out a dramatic and exasperated sigh, _"did you and Doctor Brennan decide to play hookie today on your session?" _

"What are you talking about, Sweets, we're on vacation," Booth explained.

"_At the same time?" _Sweets asked, his voice sounding as if something had sparked his interest, _"I'm fairly positive that this wasn't a coincidence." _

"And I'm 'fairly positive'," he put emphasis on the last two words, to make it clear that he was mocking him, "that it wasn't why you called either."

"_You'd be correct," _Sweets assured him, not picking up on the sarcasm in Booth's tone, _"I called because you two were supposed to be here a half an hour ago."_

Brennan and Booth exchanged confused glances with each other before Booth spoke again.

"Does nobody understand the meaning of 'vacation'?" He asked, "Would you like to know what 'vacation' means to me, Sweets?"

"_Well I'm here to listen, so of course. Speak your mind, Agent Booth."_

"Vacation, well work vacation anyway, means taking a few days off to get away. Get away from the cases, the paperwork, the building, and, my personal favorite, you."

"_Even though your words were hurtful, I commend you for being honest. I think we're getting into that 'zone of truth' we talked about a couple weeks ago. You and Doctor Brennan need to come in for your session so we can discuss this further." _

"You know, for a shrink, you're a pretty crappy listener."

There was a silence between the two of them for a few very quiet and awkward seconds.

"_Come in, with Doctor Brennan," _Sweets said, trying his best to sound like he wasn't intimidated by Booth, even over the phone.

"Or what?" Booth asked out of curiosity, "You'll 'shrink' me to death?"

"_I could assign Doctor Addy as your forensic anthropologist, if that's what you want." _

"Are you blackmailing me?"

"_Just come in for your session, Agent Booth."_

Booth glanced at Brennan, who just shrugged, as if telling him that this was his problem.

"You know, you really are a pain in the ass, Sweets," he concluded, his way of telling him that he got his way.

Booth closed his phone, not waiting for a response from the young therapist, as he got reluctantly out of bed and slid his boxers back on.

"This is all your fault," he accused Brennan, who was now wrapped in a sheet as she dug through the clothes in her dresser to find something to wear.

"_My_ fault?" She asked, as she pulled the first matching skirt and blouse she could find out of her dresser, "You're the one who picked up your phone!"

"That's something you do, when you work with murder," he told her.

He stepped out of her room and started down the hallway to the laundry room to get his, now dry, clothes, with Brennan following close behind him.

"It's highly improbable that Sweets would have had any essential information on any murder, Booth. There isn't much he can help with in his field of science. All he does is make some best estimates based on people's physical reactions."

"Regardless," Booth started, not having the energy to argue with her right then, "We have to go in or he's going to split us up and make me work with Zach."

"Does he have the power to do that?" Brennan asked.

"It's his job, Bones. The only reason we even have to see him is because the FBI thinks that it might be better," he lowered his voice a little, bracing himself for her reaction, "if we didn't work together."

"But why?" Brennan asked, her eyes never leaving his body as he slid his clothes from the night prior back on, "we're the center. You said so yourself. And the center must hold. If they split us up, then they're, destroying the center, and everything around us will fall apart-"

"Bones," he grasped her face between his hands, looking seriously into her eyes when she started to panic, "they're not going to. You're my partner, and we _are_ the center. I won't let anything happen to our partnership, okay?"

"You don't really have the authority to make such a promise," she said softly.

Ignoring her comment, he pecked her lips before fastening his 'Cocky' belt buckle.

"How much time do you need to get ready?" He asked.

"I couldn't possibly give you a rational answer for that question."

"You can be irrational, for once. I won't tell."

Brennan half smiled.

"If I had to make a best estimate, I'd guess thirty to forty five minutes."

"Great, I'll see you then."

He went to go leave before Brennan called him back.

"Wait, Booth!" She waited for him to turn back around before she continued, "my car's still at the diner."

"I know, I'm picking you up, driving you for our session with Sweets, then dropping you off to get your car," he explained, "I'm a constant surprise, Bones. Not as dumb as I look."

Brennan was about to make a remark about how they could have saved them both a lot of trouble if he just let her drive herself home, but she refrained, remembering that if he didn't insist on driving her home, they wouldn't be where they were then. Instead of speaking, afraid she was going to say the wrong thing, she just smiled.

"You're not as smart as I am," she said, bluntly, "but, admittedly, you're fairly intelligent."

"Hey, you complimented me," he pointed out, a smile on his face, "thanks, Bones."

"It wasn't necessarily a compliment, it was more of a statemen-"

She stopped talking when she heard the front door slam shut, and she just smiled to herself as she went to go get ready for their therapy with Sweets. That day, she knew it was sure to be interesting.


	6. You Two Are Impossible

**A/N: Can't thank you all enough for the Story Alerts and Reviews. You guys make me a very happy girl. =] I think that's actually all I have to say for right now. Wow. Usually I ramble. xD**

Chapter Six:

"You Two Are Impossible"

The silence was almost unbearable, as the three of them, the agent, the scientist, and the shrink, exchanged glances between one another. Brennan glanced restlessly around the room, Booth amused himself by tossing his lighter into the air and catching it, and Sweets just watched them both, trying to observe their behavior, since neither of them seemed like they were going to say anything. Booth was the one to break the silence, as he huffed, unable to hold in his irritation any longer as he stuffed his lighter back into his pocket.

"Well this has been a really interesting session, but I have things to do, so Bones and I are going to get going, if that's okay with you, Doctor."

Booth didn't wait for a response before he stood up from the couch in Sweets' office, taking Brennan's elbow to help her up. She pulled loose from his grip, giving him 'the look'. The one that reminded him that she was a grown woman and could take care of herself.

"Not so fast, Agent Booth," Sweets warned, "this session isn't over yet. Now I'd appreciate it if you could sit back down and cooperate for just a little while longer."

Reluctantly, Booth took a seat back next to Brennan, glancing from her to Sweets.

"No one's even said anything in the last fifteen minutes," Booth pointed out.

"Which is why I'm going to bring up a topic, since neither of you seem to be very cooperative today," he said, sucking in his breath to appear more burly than he actually was, "it seems like everything is a group effort with you two. If Agent Booth doesn't cooperate, Doctor Brennan doesn't cooperate, while if Doctor Brennan does cooperate, Agent Booth will too."

"Yeah, well, we're partners, Sweets. That's kind of the point."

Sweets shook his head, since Booth wasn't getting his point.

"See? That's always your answer, Agent Booth," Sweets pointed an accusing finger at him as he sat up in a lively fashion, "'We're partners'. That should be your catchphrase. You won't be able to hide from your feelings behind the word 'partners' forever."

"Booth is not a coward," Brennan interjected, "we really are partners. Just partners. I like working with Booth and he likes working with me. It goes no where past that."

"The two of you may be fooling everyone else, but you're not fooling me," Sweets said, crossing his arms over his chest, "I know there's much more to it than partners. And, I feel the need to add, that you're both acting very strange today. You two are holding something back, and in order for us to fully reach the 'zone of truth', you need to tell me."

"This is why I don't believe in psychology," Brennan whispered in a not-so quiet voice to Booth, "like I said before, he guesses."

Sweets had to let out a chuckle.

"You honestly don't think it's obvious?"

"What's obvious?" Brennan asked, putting on her best clueless and innocent act.

Sweets looked from Booth to Brennan, Brennan to Booth, not believing a word that was coming out of either of their mouths. He was trying not to lose his temper with them, but sometimes they just got under his skin. The way they pretended they weren't attracted to each other, and what bothered him the most, the way they thought everyone around them was too stupid to realize their sexual attraction towards each other.

"Agent Booth, look into her eyes," Sweets tried, ready to get them to admit their feelings for each other, even though, little did he know, they already had.

Booth turned his head to look at her, as the psychiatrist asked, and smiled charmingly.

"Now, Doctor Brennan, look into his eyes," Sweets instructed.

Brennan did the same, both of their bodies immediately reacting when their eyes locked with each others. It wouldn't be visible to most people, but, since Sweets was trained, he could see it clear as day. The way they tensed up when they looked at each other.

"What do you feel?" Sweets asked, feeling very 'shrink-y' as Booth would have put it, when he asked.

"Nothing," Booth lied, keeping his eyes locked onto hers.

"Doctor Brennan?" Sweets tried.

Brennan shrugged before she spoke.

"I feel a strong friendship and an excellent partnership, but other than that, nothing."

Sweets huffed as he put his head in his hands. Oh, how badly he just wanted to wake both of them up and make them see how they felt for each other. He could see the way they reacted to each other from a touch just as slight as their shoulders bumping together. He could see how close they sat on his couch when they were in session. He could see the way they'd throw small smiles at each other, as if sharing a joke that nobody else was in on.

"You two are _impossible_!" Sweets exclaimed, putting strong emphasis on the last word, "Look at you. That does _not_ look like a partnership to me, that looks like a relationship," he put his hand up before Brennan could interrupt, "and don't say 'it's a friendship', because I mean a relationship as in, a romantic relationship. Partners do _not_ look at each other like that. Partners don't blush when they look at one another. And partners sure as hell don't sit so close that their knees graze together every couple of minutes."

"Sweets, pal, you're looking _way_ too far into this," Booth cut in, subconsciously putting a hand on Brennan's knee, "Bones and I, are just partners."

"Look, you're doing it again," Sweets pointed out, "you touch her every chance you get. You always have your arm around her shoulder, or your hand on her leg. Agent Booth, she obviously feels the same way."

"How could you possibly know what I feel?" Brennan asked, curiously, "I very well could feel absolutely nothing for Booth. You told me that it's not your job to tell people how they feel, but rather listen to how they feel. So listen to _me_, Doctor Sweets. Booth and I told you that we do not feel any sort of feelings for each other beyond friendship. You asked, and we responded. If you require, there are several other languages I can assure you in."

A silence came over the room when she finished her speech, Booth's facial expression looking approving and Sweets' expression looking slightly shocked. He'd never seen Brennan get so animated before that day. Usually, in therapy, she stayed fairly quiet, and let Booth do most of the talking.

"Wow," Booth's chuckle broke the silence, "impressive, Bones."

"Thank you," Brennan glanced at him, a satisfied half-smile on her face.

"Doctor Brennan," Sweets' voice sounded slightly nervous, "obviously you felt very passionate about what you just said."

"So do you believe us now?" Brennan asked, sternly.

Sweets just nodded as he looked back and forth between the two of them. They seemed so relaxed. Like it just came so easily and naturally for them to pretend they didn't need each other. He was intrigued, and was looking forward to their next session so he could try and figure the two of them out further.

"You guys are free to go," Sweets informed them, making a gesture towards the door.

They stood up in perfect synchronization as they went to walk out of the office.

"Catch ya' later, Sweets," Booth called over his shoulder before they left the office.

As soon as they stepped outside Sweets' office, he held up his hand for a high five, but Brennan ignored it, her eyes focused on his face.

"We need to go to your office," she said, her voice pleading.

"Bones, I'm not working today," he reminded her.

Brennan shook her head.

"It's not about work, but we just," she paused, "I really need to talk to you."

Brennan had already started towards the office before he could say anything, and Booth followed close behind, keeping up with her long and hasty strides. When she reached the office that read 'Special Agent Seeley Booth' on the door, she yanked it open, glanced behind her, put her hands on his chest, and pushed him roughly through the doorway, quickly closing the door behind them, not bothering to flick on the light.

"Bones, you seem a little on edge," he observed.

"Shut up," she whispered.

Before he could react, she had him thrown up against the wall of his office, that office she'd seen so many times before. The wall rattled a bit from the impact of his body being pushed against it, but she ignored it, as she crashed her lips against his, the desire in her kiss notable.

"Bones," Booth had to chuckle against her lips at her enthusiasm, as she pulled on the bottom of his shirt, untucking it from his dress pants, "what's gotten into you?"

Brennan pulled away and slid her lips slowly down his neck, not kissing the skin just yet, her breath warm against his skin as he moaned at the sensation.

"Bones," he moaned, tangling his fingers up in her silky brown hair, his breathing slightly irregular now, "shouldn't we do this somewhere else? I don't even have a couch in here."

"We don't need a couch," she assured him, finally fully kissing his skin when she reached his collarbone, her fingers simultaneously pulling the buttons of his shirt open to reveal his torso, "we're not going the whole ten yards," she spoke between kisses now as she worked her way slowly up his neck, "I just need to have some sort of skin contact."

"_Nine_ yards, Bones," he couldn't help but correct her, "and you couldn't have waited ten more minutes for skin contact so we don't have to-"

Brennan pressed her finger back to his lips as she pressed steamy kisses to the line of his jaw, noticing that he must have shaved before they went to their therapy session.

"You're very garrulous today," she observed, her voice low and raspy as she kissed at the corner of his lips, her spine tingling when he moaned her first name, "say my name again."

He obeyed, burying his face in her shoulder as he groaned, the word muffled by her skin.

"Temperance," he groaned, pressing kisses to her shoulder between moans.

He slid her shirt up slightly so it was at her rib cage, as he caressed his fingers slowly over the warm soft skin that was revealed.

"Seeley," she was the one to moan now as his fingers trailed down her rib cage and to the waistline of her skirt, her moans encouraging him when he stopped "What are you stalling for?" she whispered in his ear.

"You said we weren't going the whole nine yards," he reminded her, his fingers toying with the waistline of her skirt.

She pulled on his 'Cocky' belt buckle, attempting to pull it loose as they took a breather, just letting their breath caress each other's skin.

"I changed my mind," she admitted, her voice still in a whisper, "I didn't think I wanted to, but once you touched me, my biological urges just became uncontrollable. I want you, Seeley."

His body reacted when the words left her lips, feeling chills run up his back as she scratched her nails ever-so gently across the warm, soft skin of his chest. He pressed a kiss to the spot right underneath her ear as his fingers moved gingerly to the zipper on the back of her skirt.

They were so absorbed in each other, that they didn't notice the front door to his office creak open until it was too late. The lights flicked on, and they froze, their eyes fixed on each other, both too afraid to look and see who was in the doorway.

Brennan knew she couldn't explain this one away, to anyone. She had him pinned against the wall, his shirt undone and her nails traveling down his chest as he was about to undo the zipper on her skirt, not to mention their lips were all over every inch of the other's skin, and they were moaning each other's names quite frequently. Her eyes were slightly apologetic as she looked at him, knowing, if the Deputy Director of the FBI was standing in the doorway, she could very well be the reason Booth lost his job.

Neither of them wanted to believe it, but there was no denying. They'd been caught. And not by just anyone. They'd been caught by Doctor Lance Sweets.


	7. You're My Guy, Sweets

**A/N: I love reading the reviews I get from you guys. Some of them are so sweet =] And I too, wish something like this would happen on the show, just because I need Brennan and Booth together. xD Thank you to everyone who Story Alerted(?) and Reviewed. =]**

Chapter Seven:

"You're My Guy, Sweets"

Sweets had his mouth slightly open in shock, his mind still trying to process what he just walked in on, as he stared, searching for the words to say. The silence loomed over the three of them, seeming to last for hours, before Booth finally broke it.

"Her zipper was broken," he tried, gesturing towards his hands, which hadn't moved from the zipper on her skirt, "I was just, fixing it for her. Right, Bones?"

Even he couldn't help but let a small smile creep onto his lips as he told the obvious lie.

"Agent Booth, Doctor Brennan," Sweets managed to squeak out, not even responding to the horribly thought out zipper story, "can the two of you put your clothes back on and meet me back in my office?"

"Technically no ones clothes actually left their body," Brennan corrected him.

Sweets just nodded, his mouth still agape when he did. Brennan and Booth exchanged glances with each other, then looked at Sweets in a strange manor.

"Sweets!" Booth snapped him out of his trance, "close your mouth and get going."

"Right, right, sorry," Sweets apologized, leaving the office, but poking his head back through the door before he closed it behind him, "and when I said 'put your clothes on and meet me in my office', I didn't mean finish what you're doing here first, then put your clothes on and meet me in my office. I meant, now."

"Alright, Sweets," Booth waved him off with his hand as the psychiatrist closed the door behind him.

He turned his attention back to Brennan, who had tried desperately to conceal the disappointment in her eyes as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Later," he promised her, the one word bringing a slight smile to her lips, as they proceeded to fix their clothes and go try and smooth this little mishap out with Sweets.

When Brennan and Booth entered the office, they both expected to see the same shocked and flustered psychiatrist that they saw back in Booth's office, but they were both surprised when the baby faced shrink was sitting in his chair confidently, his back straight and a triumphant smile on his lips. They knew that by catching them, he felt like he'd won something.

"Don't look so cocky," Booth warned as he and Brennan took their normal seats on the couch, "you were going to find out eventually, so why not now?"

"And the probability of us getting caught by anyone was significantly higher, since there's so many people in this building," Brennan explained, "the fact that you happened to open the door was only a mere coincidence. It could have been anybody."

"Or nobody," Booth pointed out to her, "I would rather it have been nobody."

"Well yes, of course," she concurred, "nobody would have been nice."

Sweets was shocked by how calm they were, how they were having conversation about it like this was something that happened every day. He couldn't fathom why they were taking this so lightly, and that just sparked his interest about them even more.

"Guys!" He pulled them out of their conversation, "The two of you don't seem to be grasping what just happened in there."

Booth leaned forward a little and pressed his hands together, speaking in a voice in which one would speak to a child.

"Well, Sweets, I know this is hard for you to understand, but sometimes, when two grown ups like each other very much, they do 'grown up' things," he explained slowly.

"Your attempting to intimidate me so I'll let this incident go, Agent Booth," Sweets pointed out, "but I assure you, it's not going to be that easy. I just walked in on you two practically ripping each others clothes off! I'm not letting this one go."

"You know, Sweets, the only reason you even called us in here is so you could rub it in about how you were right, so just do it, and get it over with, so I can go home."

"I have to agree with Booth on this," Brennan added in, "I need to get my car."

Sweets let out a long, sigh, running his hands through his thick, dark hair.

"This is recent. You two moving to a different level in your relationship," Sweets told them, rather than asked.

"And why do you think that?" Booth asked out of curiosity.

"He's just guessing, Booth," Brennan reminded him.

"No, no, I am not just guessing," Sweets assured her, leaning forward a bit in his chair now, ready to explain, "I always knew you two had a sexual attraction towards each other, but today, it felt different. You were both showing great signs of anxiety. Doctor Brennan, I noticed, tugged nervously at her skirt a few times, Agent Booth was keeping his hands busy the entire session, which usually indicates nerves, and you two barely made eye contact until I forced you to. You both think you're better liars than you are. I could see how Doctor Brennan's eyes changed from bored to passionate when she looked at you. Usually, when she looks at you, I see love, and hope, but today, it was pure physical lust. Which is why, when I heard your office door close, I figured I'd come ask you about it, man to man. I knew she wanted you, but I didn't know you two were going to take each other right there in your office."

"Woah, woah, woah, simmer down, Sweets," Booth held his hand up to signal his silence, "now you're just jumping to conclusions. No one was 'taking' anybody. Bones told me that she just needed some," he paused, searching for the words she used.

"Skin contact," Brennan finished for him, "and I didn't say I 'needed' it, I said I wanted it. They have completely different meanings. I need food, water, and oxygen. I want skin contact."

"Well thank you for the English lesson, Bones, but from the way you threw me against that wall, you needed it," he smirked confidently.

"I threw you against the wall out of sexual frustration," she corrected him.

"Frustration?" He asked, slightly amused, "It's barely been two hours!"

Brennan went to fire a response back at him, but Sweets cut her off before she could.

"I think we're straying a little off topic," he informed them, "the point is, I'm going to have to tell Cullen about this."

"Oh, no you're not," Booth chuckled darkly, "I'll make damn sure of that."

"Are you threatening me, Agent Booth?"

"Of course I'm not. Just casually reminding you that I do carry a gun."

"Booth!" Brennan's voice was in a whisper as she elbowed him in the arm.

Booth glanced at her, his eyes slightly apologetic, until he looked back to Sweets.

"If you tell Cullen about this, Bones and I won't be able to work together anymore."

"Why not?" Brennan asked, this fact taking her by surprise as she looked at him.

"FBI rules, Bones," he reminded her, "you can't have a sexual relationship with your partner. If the good head shrinking doctor here tells Cullen, they'll assign both of us to new partners."

"That's completely unnecessary!" Brennan exclaimed, the subject hitting a nerve with her, "What does it matter if we have a physical relationship at home? It's not going to have any effect on the quality of our work. I'm still the best in my field and you're the best in yours."

"Well I didn't make the rules, I just follow them," he reminded her.

"But we're the center, Booth," she reminded him, "we're the center. And you promised you wouldn't let anything happen to our partnership. Our partnership means so much to me."

"This one is out of my hands, Bones," he told her, his voice slightly apologetic, "It's up to Sweets, whether he wants to tell Cullen and have our partnership severed, or keep it to himself. And I know he'll tell Cullen, because he's been out to get me since the first day the three of us met. He's been dying take my partner away, just to stick it to me."

"Agent Booth, I have absolutely nothing against you," Sweets assured him, confused as to why he was all of a sudden being open with him, "we may not always see eye to eye, but I wouldn't split you and Doctor Brennan up because of that. "

"Yeah, yeah, Sweets," he brushed off the heart-to-heart he was trying to have with him, "I know you're going to tell Cullen anyway, so just get it over with."

Sweets smoothed his tie down and let out a short sigh. They were teaming up again, trying to make him feel like the villain, and right then, he felt like they were right.

"Doctor Sweets, you're making a big mistake," Brennan told him simply.

"Bones, he's not going to listen to you," Booth informed her.

"Doctor Brennan, Agent Booth, this is nothing personal," he swore to them, "I wish I hadn't walked in on you two, but I did. And as a psychiatrist that works with the FBI, it's my-"

"Then don't be an FBI associate right now. Be a friend." Brennan said, her voice low and pleading.

Sweets looked as if he were considering it, giving Brennan and Booth a small ounce of hope.

"If he finds out, and knows that I knew, I could lose my job," he pointed out.

"If he finds out, Bones and I will assure him that you had no idea," Booth promised, "come on, Sweets. Twelve year olds love keeping secrets. Our secret, Sweets. Me, you, and Bones."

"Even though I'm not twelve, and don't really enjoy keeping secrets," Sweets started, "I'm willing to keep this incident to myself."

Booth and Brennan exchanged smiles before Booth turned back to Sweets.

"You're my guy, Sweets," he smiled, nudging Brennan in excitement with his elbow.

Sweets chuckled and shook his head at their excitement, having a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he did the right thing by keeping their relationship a secret. Who was he to ruin such a stellar partnership?

"You two can leave," he informed them.

"Great," Booth was upbeat and energized with relief now as he and Brennan stood from the therapist's couch and made their way out the door

Before Booth shut the door behind him, he stepped one foot back into the office

"Secret," he reminded him, "no one finds out. Not even mom."

"I assure you, nothing passes these lips," Sweets promised.

"You'd better hope not," Booth gave him his warning, followed by a friendly smile before he left the office.


	8. How Much Longer?

**A/N: Again, can't thank you all enough for the reviews and alerts I've been getting. They make me giddy. xDI love reading everyone's comments on the story. I'm glad people on this site are so supportive. =] And just a quick after thought, I'm going to jump forward in time just a tiny bit in the next chapter, so don't be confused. =]**

Chapter Eight:

"How Much Longer?"

Brennan glanced at the clock, which read 8:15, before she turned her attention back to her laptop, her fingers flying quickly over the keys, as she knew exactly what she wanted to write for her latest novel. She had the fire burning in the fireplace, and a half full glass of red wine next to her.

_He had little time to react, before I had him pressed against the dark wall of his small FBI office, not hesitating to loosen his tie and slip it off his shoulders before beginning to pluck the buttons of his shirt open, revealing the solid body that he, for the most part, kept hidden under his button down shirts and suit jackets. All these years, that was what I missed out on. I was going to make up for them, and I knew he wouldn't have any objections to that. When he started to slide his fingers up my blouse, I encouraged him with a moan, letting him know that I was wanting this as bad as he was. He didn't seem to need any more encouragement than that, as he quickly removed my blouse to reveal my pink and black lace bra. Making sure he was still pinned under my body and to the wall, I started on his pants, which were the next article of clothing to hit the ground._

"_Kathy," he groaned in ecstasy, "there's nothing I want more right now than you, but, didn't you say we weren't going all the way? Not yet at least?"_

"_I changed my mind," my voice was sultry as I whispered in his ear, "take me."_

_Without hesitation, his hands were at the zipper on my skirt, and he zipped it down with ease, letting it drop quickly to the floor, leaving us both only covered by undergarments. We gave our lips a break as our hands did all the work, caressing every inch of bare skin as-"_

A knock on her front door pulled Brennan out of her writing, as she pushed off her chair and went to the door, giving it a quick tug to pull it open.

"Booth," her voice was notably surprised when she saw the tall handsome man standing outside her front door, a grin properly placed on his face.

"Who were you expecting?" He asked, slipping past her and into the house without her invitation, "You sound surprised."

"I wasn't expecting anyone," she said honestly, "which is why I was surprised to see you when I opened the door. Isn't it unethical to just show up at people's houses? Aren't you supposed to call first?"

"Well that's me, Bones. A rebel," he joked with her as he glanced around her house, "I hope I didn't pull you away from any important business," she noted the sarcasm in his voice, as he glanced at the half empty glass of red wine on the table next to her laptop, "I know drinking wine alone and writing your novel is much more entertaining than I am."

"It would be," Brennan said, a playful smirk on her face, "but lately, I've discovered a whole new kind of fun that I can have with you."

"You really had that much fun ice skating?" He asked, clearly only joking with her.

"I wasn't talking about the ice skating, Booth," she said, very plainly, "I was talking about last night. And this morning. And almost in your office."

"Bones, I know," he sighed at how literal she was, "joke."

"Oh," she said, her voice a little lower, since he had embarrassed her, "are you back to finish what we started? Because if I remember correctly, which is more than likely the case, you said we were going to finish later. And although I'm not aroused anymore, I think you could easily change tha-"

He put a finger over her lips before she could finish.

"We'll get to that," he promised, wondering somewhere in the back of his mind if she got this feisty with all the men she dated, "but don't you just want to enjoy each other for a while?"

"I do enjoy intercourse with you," she said, oblivious to what he meant.

"I was talking more about emotionally than physically," he explained.

"Oh," she said, lowering her voice once again, "I just thought, we already did."

"Did what?"

"Enjoy each other on an emotional level."

"We enjoyed each other as partners on an emotional level," he explained to her, "now I'm ready to enjoy you mentally and emotionally, not as a friend, but as a lover."

"That was, deep," she informed him, a small smile creeping onto her lips, "yet, when said in your voice, it sounded very, endearing."

"You're turning into quite the marshmallow there, Bones," he pointed out.

Brennan looked down at her black tank top and grey sweat pants, slightly confused as to what he was talking about. Booth let a look of confusion wash over his face as well, when she seemed to be looking to her pajamas for advice.

"There's not even a speck of white on my entire body," she gave him a puzzled look.

Booth laughed, but Brennan kept her face serious, her eyes pleading with him to explain to her what was going on. After only a few seconds of his laughing she crossed her arms over her chest, making it clear that she was annoyed.

"Marshmallow," he controlled his laughter when he saw her irritated stance, "doesn't mean you're wearing white. It means your getting all soft and fluffy on me."

"I am not 'fluffy'," she spat the last word as if it were venom, "you make me sound spineless. I'm a strong, independent woman, who is gifted with the ability to write along with the gift of my high IQ and ability to retain the knowledge I learn."

"I know, Bones," he let out a fake, exasperated sigh, as he wrapped his arms around her waist, "blah, blah, blah, you're a genius."

Brennan leaned back against his chest as she reached behind her to wrap her arms awkwardly around the back of his neck, making sure he couldn't get away from her.

"The tone in your voice indicates irritation, yet you're embracing me," she observed.

"Because, you feel the need to flaunt how smart you are when I already know," he explained, bluntly, "I know you're a genius. You don't have to prove it to me."

"It's just a force of habit," she admitted, "I don't have much else to 'flaunt'."

"What are you talking about?" Booth chuckled lightly now, "you're beautiful, Bones."

Her cheeks flushed red at his comment. He'd called her hot in Las Vegas, and on several other occasions. He'd called her sexy that morning. But he'd never called her beautiful, and it caught her a little off her guard. She unwrapped her arms from his neck and shifted in his hold so she was facing him.

"Really?" She asked, "do you really think I'm beautiful? Or is that just force of habit?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it," he promised, as she nuzzled her head into the crease between his shoulder and his neck.

She inhaled his scent slowly before she spoke again.

"I always knew I was pretty," she said, pausing, but not realizing her 'ego was showing again', as Booth would have put it, "but I never thought that you thought I was beautiful."

"Really?" Booth asked, a little surprised by this, "how many times do I have to 'jokingly' call you hot before you figure it out?"

"I knew you thought I was 'hot'," she rephrased, "but 'hot' and 'beautiful' have completely different connotations. Anthropologically speaking, 'hot' indicates a strictly sexual view of the person. You thought I had a 'nice rack and ass' as you'd put it. Sure, you also recognized the proportion of my facial features and the structure of my skull, in addition to my body, but 'beautiful' indicates that you see me as more than an object of sexual desire."

They were both quiet for a second before Brennan corrected herself.

"I hope that didn't sound to you like psychology, because I assure you it wasn't," she waited for a response, giving him a curious look when he just stared at her, "why are you not speaking?"

"I'm sorry, Bones, but you lost me at 'connotations'," he admitted

"I was expecting that," she said, pressing a soft kiss to the line of his jaw, "I confuse you with my anthropological knowledge, and you confuse me with your, immense knowledge of, sports and pop culture."

"I think you just complimented me again," he smirked, "Marshmallow."

"Once again, it was a statement, Booth," she complained, not wanting him to call her 'Marshmallow', "I didn't state anything that wasn't a fact. A compliment would be if I said you have beautiful eyes, because that is an opinion and not a fact."

"So do you think I have beautiful eyes?" He asked.

"They're," she blushed, glancing to the floor, "captivating."

"I can live with that. Your eyes are beautiful."

"I can't take credit, my father passed them down to me through his DNA and-"

Booth let out a long sigh as she rambled, before cutting her off by pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

"Just take the compliment, Bones," he begged.

"Okay," she gave in, "I accept your compliment on my genetics," she paused, looking to him as his eyes urged her to continue, "thank you."

"You're welcome," he smiled a Booth-y grin.

She glanced at the fireplace and tugged gently on his arm.

"Come sit by the fire with me," she said, pulling him over to the fireplace before she took a seat on the floor, patting the floor next to her, showing him that she wanted him to join her.

"Hold on there, Bones," he chuckled, grabbing a blanket that was draped over the arm of the couch, motioning for her to stand up.

Brennan stood up and next to him as he spread the blanket out on the floor, not giving her a chance to ask what he was doing before he disappeared into her bedroom and came back out with another blanket.

"_Now_, I'll sit with you by the fire," Booth told her, taking a seat on the blanket as she sat down promptly next to him, snuggling against his shoulder when he wrapped the other blanket around them both.

"That's more comfortable than sitting on the bare floor," she admitted, her head against his shoulder as his fingers traced absent mindedly over the skin of her arm.

"I know," he assured her, "I'm getting the glory for this one, Bones."

"Well it's not like you found the cure to cancer," she turned her head slightly to look up at him, "all you did was put a blanket on the floor, something an invalid could have done."

"Thanks, Bones," he said, sarcastically.

Brennan moved a piece of the fabric of his shirt aside to press a gentle kiss to his collarbone, content on just staying there all night with him.

"How much longer?" She asked, her lips traveling over his skin.

"Until?" He tilted his head to watch her.

"We have to go back to work."

She, very slowly and carefully, undid the first button of his shirt.

"Jeez, Bones, just enjoy your vacation time," he chuckled softly, watching her as she took her time with things, "You'll be back with your dead things soon enough."

"That's not it," she shook her head, pressing two fingers to his chest as she pushed him gently to tilt him slightly backwards, starting on the second button once all the skin revealed from the first was covered with gentle, loving kisses, "I don't want to go back."

Booth was a little taken back by her words. Work was usually her life.

"You don't?" He asked, sliding his fingers slowly down her fabric covered back.

"No," she admitted, letting her lips linger on his skin for a few seconds, "I like this better."

Booth chuckled as he just watched her after that. The fact that she preferred spending time with him over spending time with dead bodies gave him a good feeling.

"Have you had your fill of emotional bonding?" Booth asked, when she started with the third button now, tilting him a little further back so she could reach.

"No," she assured him, kissing a different part of his skin now, "I like this."

"You seem to be getting a little antsy," he observed, glancing down at her as she pressed soft and tender kisses to cover every inch of skin she'd uncovered.

"This isn't 'antsy'," she informed him, "I'm being affectionate. There is nothing sexual about this, Booth."

"Usually when clothing is being removed, it's somewhat sexual," he informed her, holding back a moan when she kissed a sensitive spot, since she told him it was innocent.

"This isn't sexual," she promised, her lips moving at a slow pace over his skin, "I wanted to make love again when you first came, but I don't feel any pressure to do that anymore."

She felt his chest vibrate slightly with silent laugher as she peered up at him.

"Did I say something amusing?"

"What we did last night, and this morning, and almost in my office was not making love," he assured her, with a small chuckle, "that was years and years of pent up sexual frustration. It was passionate, but out of desire, not love."

"I told you I loved you before we did it," she reminded him, pausing her kisses for the moment.

"And I love you too, but that doesn't mean we made love."

"Oh," she said, still trying to process what he said through her mind.

When he saw her facial expression fall slightly, Booth leaned down and pressed a reassuring kiss to her lips.

"One day, I'll show you what love making is," he promised.

"But not tonight?" She asked.

"No, Bones, not tonight. Tonight, I'm just going to hold you until you fall asleep."

"I can live with that," Brennan smiled, as she snuggled back up against his half clothed chest and closed her eyes in serenity, focusing on the feeling of his fingers running through her hair.


	9. That Is Such A Booth Move

**A/N: Hate to sound like a broken record, but thank you everyone for your reviews and alerts. =] I've put a lot of work into this story and I'm glad to see that people are enjoying it. Not much going on in this chapter, so I guess you could call it a filler? xD**

Chapter Nine:

"That Is Such A Booth Move"

Brennan had the skull of an ancient body, for a museum, in her glove-covered hands as she examined the skull closely. Even though she was staring intently at the human skull she was holding, her mind was elsewhere. She was having trouble focusing that day, which was a very rare occurrence for her, and was also the reason she was so behind in her work. Setting the skull down, she picked up another one of the bones, her mind drifting in and out of focus.

_I really need to finish this before Booth shows up to take me to dinner. I haven't seen much of him in the past couple of days. Work is proving to be a burden in our relationship. Is relationship even an appropriate word? We've only had sex twice. Right tibia._

She set the tibia down and picked up yet another bone.

_Booth said he was going to show me what making love really was, but that was over a week ago. Did he change his mind? Did he forget? Maybe I should remind him, but that would make me sound desperate, wouldn't it? He more than likely didn't forget. He's much more intelligent than he lets on to._

"Doctor Brennan," she heard the voice of Camille Saroyan behind her, but her mind was too busy drifting from Booth to the several bodies she had to assemble before the next morning, that it didn't really phase her.

_He remembers, he absolutely remembers. He's doing this on purpose, he wants me to constantly be thinking about it, wondering if he's going to live up to his promises. Seeley Booth is teasing me, and enjoying every second of it. No wonder whenever my mind goes there, he has that kind of triumphant look on his face, because he knows what I'm thinking about. What a rat bastard. That is such a Booth move._

"Doctor Brennan," Cam tried again.

"Forget it, she's completely lost in those bones," Angela informed her, removing her lab coat, "When she gets these ancient bones in her hands, a kind of peace comes over her. It's like she reaches Anthropological Nirvana."

Cam laughed softly and shook her head before taking a step forward, so she was standing next to Brennan over the autopsy table.

"Hello? Doctor Brennan?" She tried.

"Yes?" Brennan answered, setting the bone down in it's place, not making eye contact with Cam when she spoke to her.

"We're all going home, you should too."

Brennan shook her eyes never leaving the autopsy table.

"I have to make sure these bodies aren't missing any bones and that all the bones go with their correct bodies before tomorrow morning. You guys can leave though."

"Are you sure?" Cam asked, glancing from the autopsy table to Brennan, then back to the table, "I wouldn't want to be here alone with all these, dead people."

"They're deceased. In a way, it's more safe to be here with them than it is with anyone who works here," she finally looked up at Cam, picking up the skull and showing it to her, "what could this possibly do to me?"

"Well not everybody is as rational as you, Doctor Brennan," Cam said, looking down at the skull, "most people wouldn't want to be alone with," she paused, nodding towards the skull in her hand, "that."

"I appreciate your concern, Doctor Saroyan, but I assure you, I'll be fine."

"Alright, see you tomorrow Doctor Brennan," she said, stepping away from the table and going to exit the Jeffersonian, not before calling to her over her shoulder, "and don't stay here all night."

"I won't," she lied, since she didn't know if she'd be there all night or not, depending on how quickly she could finish assembling these bodies.

Only a few minutes after Cam left, and the institute was peacefully silent, she heard the swipe of a card, and Angela's high heels clicking up to the autopsy table.

"What are you doing standing here over a skeleton?" She demanded.

"My job," Brennan responded.

"Sweetie, the museum can wait. _You_ have a date with Studly tonight."

"Who?"

"Studly," she repeated, seeing the confusion on Brennan's face, "Handsome. Hot Stuff. Special Agent Seeley Booth."

"Yes, I know," Brennan assured her, looking at the completed body laying on the autopsy table before she started to put it back in the marked box, "but this takes priority."

"Nothing takes priority over a hot date with a hot FBI agent," Angela informed her.

"You didn't tell anyone about Booth and I, right?" Brennan asked as she started on the next body.

"No, Brennan, of course not. Not even Hodgins knows."

"Good. It has to stay like that."

"Why?"

"Because Booth and I can't work together anymore if the FBI finds out that we have a relationship beyond friendship. They don't allow sexual relationships between partners."

"I'd take sex with Booth over going to crime scenes with him any day."

"I'm disagreeing with you. Work first, then relationships."

Angela sighed.

"Oh, sweetie. How you have your priorities mixed up."

Before Brennan could respond, there was another swipe of a card and the sound of Booth's shoes coming quickly up the stairs, stopping next to Angela.

"Hey, handsome," Angela smiled.

"Hello, Angela," he tossed her a charming smile, his eyes shifting to Brennan after a couple short seconds, "What is she doing?"

"My job," Brennan responded before Angela could, "why does everyone seem so surprised by this?"

She didn't even notice that he was next to her until she felt his lips on her cheek.

"Booth," she complained, turning her head slightly away from him before he spoke, so his lips couldn't reach her cheek again.

"Bones, come on, we're supposed to be going on a date," he reminded her, glancing at his watch, "it's already seven fifteen, and we were supposed to go at seven. I was running late so that gave you fifteen extra minutes to play with your bones. Now lets go."

"I'm not 'playing', Booth, I'm working," she said, "we'll go as soon as I'm done. I just have a few more bodies to put together."

Booth picked up a bone out of the box and looked at it in disgust.

"This is what's coming between our date?" He asked, holding up the bone to her, "An ancient dead guy that's going to go in a museum?"

"Don't touch that!" She scolded, swiping the bone out of his hand, "you're not even wearing gloves. Do you know how unsanitary that is?"

"I have to say, you're making it very hard for me to be excited for our date. Call me crazy, but dead bodies kind of kill the mood for me."

Angela laughed at their behavior. Even though they'd established their feelings for each other, and were on that fine line between seeing one another and dating now, they were still the same Brennan and Booth. Always bickering.

"At least I know you guys aren't going to change at all," Angela commented, slipping her purse over her shoulder as she gave them both a small wave, "have fun you two."

After she said goodbye to Angela, Brennan went back to focusing on the body she was putting together, completely ignoring Booth, who was behind her, peering over her shoulder. When he noticed he was being ignored, he touched the tips of his fingers gently to her waist, running them slowly up to her rib cage. Trying her best to ignore him, Brennan forced her mind to focus on the body as she examined one of the bones before setting it in it's place. She gasped slightly with surprise when she felt him nip at her earlobe.

"_Booth_," she complained again, shrugging him off, "I'm trying to work and you're proving to be highly distracting."

"Work time is over," he whispered in her ear as she shivered from the sensation of his breath on her skin, "we're supposed to be out to dinner."

"I told you, we'll go when I'm finished," she said, "I have remains to examine. You don't have to stay here. You can wait in my office."

Taking her up on he offer, Booth turned on his heel and started towards her office, which was only a short distance away from the autopsy table. When Brennan heard the door of her office close, she breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that she'd be able to focus much more on her work when Booth wasn't breathing down her neck.

Almost two hours later, Brennan hadn't finished with what she had to do yet, and she was wondering why she hadn't heard several complaints from Booth about how it was already nine thirty. She wasn't going to complain though. She was working much quicker now that she was alone. Only a couple seconds after her thoughts, she heard the door to her office open.

"Bones!" Booth's voice echoed through the empty institute, "Are you finished?"

"Considering I'm still laying out human bones on the autopsy table, no, I'm not."

"Are you almost finished?" He asked now, "I'm starving."

"I've been to Africa, Booth. You're not starving. You can simply use a bite to eat."

He made his way back to her, swiping his car before he joined her on the platform.

"So just because you can't see my ribs, you can ditch our date?"

"I'm not ditching our date. Thirty more minutes and I'll be done."

"By the time you're finished it'll be almost ten o' clock. A little late for dinner."

"Then we'll get dessert."

"Pie?"

"I do not like pie, Booth."

Booth huffed at her and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"You're a pain in the ass. You know that, Bones?"

"You've told me that many times," she said simply.

Brennan focused her attention back on the skeleton in front of her as Booth went back into her office. By the time he came out to complain again, she had already started putting the last set of bones into their appropriately labeled box.

"I'm finished," she said, when she heard his card swipe, allowing him into the area she was standing in, as she put the last bone in it's box and sealed it back up.

When she stood up straight after everything was back where it was supposed to be, she let out a small gasp when she saw Booth standing over her.

"Oh, I wasn't expecting you there," she admitted, "you usually don't like being so close to the autopsy table," her words sped up when he leaned in close, "I just didn't think you-"

He cut her off by pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

"Enough dead body talk," he whispered against her lips, as she nodded in agreement, feeling her whole body shaking like a frightened puppy, "you're mine now."

"I know," she agreed with his words, "but I have to point out, you're doing that thing again."

"What thing?"

"You're asserting yourself as the alpha male by leaning over me like that. You're establishing your dominance."

Booth was going to respond, but decided against it, knowing it would only end in more bickering if he did.

"Come on, Bones," he said, helping her out of her lab coat, "_you_ owe me a date."


	10. This Isn't A Date

**A/N: Okay, time to repeat myself again by saying thank you for the reviews and alerts. You are all probably just wanting me to shut up by now, but I really do appreciate them so much. They make a girl happy. =]**

**Um, so this chapter proved to be a real pain in the ass (excuse the language xD) for me to write, for some reason. I'm not really sure why, but I was having trouble focusing, and it wound up taking me like, three hours to finish. So I hope you all enjoy. And Sully is finally coming into play next chapter, so Sully-lovers, if there are any, can give a big 'hooray' to that (even though I dislike Sully xD). Alright, I'll shut up now. **

Chapter Ten:

"This Isn't A Date"

"You're slightly over dressed for the diner," Brennan observed as she took a sip of her milkshake, swirling it around with her straw afterwards.

"Well it's not like I planned for our 'big date' to be here," Booth reminded her, "we would have been out to a nice restaurant with dim lights, candles, soft music playing. But you had to go get caught up in your bones for two hours."

Brennan just shrugged as she sipped on her chocolate milkshake, occasionally glancing into the glass to make sure she wasn't drinking it too fast. Even though she wasn't embarrassed to eat in front of Booth, she didn't want to look like a pig either.

"I'm sorry for, ruining your dinner plans," she finally said, noticing that Booth was lost in thought until she spoke, "next time we're going out to dinner, I'll make sure I finish my work early."

"You don't have to be sorry, Bones. You just owe me now."

"Owe you what?"

"A date."

"This _is_ a date."

"You think _this_ is a date?" He had to laugh now, "Oh, Bones."

"I don't see what's amusing."

"This isn't a date, Bones. It's the diner."

"I thoroughly enjoy this diner. Especially when I'm here with you."

"As flattering as that was, it doesn't mean you're getting out of that date you owe me."

"I just don't understand, Booth. Why doesn't this count as a date?"

"There are so many reasons why this doesn't count as a date," he chuckled.

Brennan set her glass on the table, the large glass making a clunking noise when it touched the hard surface of the table, which gave the moment a little dramatic effect.

"Why won't you just tell me why you don't view this as a date?" She asked.

"Because, Bones, a date is planned, and at least somewhat romantic. And, we've been here a million times as friends, so it's really nothing special anymore. When we go on a real date, you'll know it."

"A million is not a rational number to represent the times we've been here."

"See, this is why I don't answer your questions," he narrowed his eyes slightly at her, "I give you a whole big explanation on why this isn't a date, and all you do is comment on my hyperbole."

"Sorry," she muttered, the slightest bit of attitude detectable in her voice as she stirred her milkshake with a straw.

They sat in silence for a minute, as Brennan incessantly stirred her shake, her eyes only focused on the brown substance that filled the glass up halfway.

"Come on, Bones, are you gonna be cranky for the rest of the night now?" Booth asked, letting a charming smile come to his lips.

"I'm not 'cranky'," she mocked his words, but couldn't resist smiling back, "you're using your charming smile on me."

"Is it working?" He asked, keeping the charm in his voice and on his lips.

"Yes," she admitted hesitantly, "but anthropologically speaking, it's just my body reacting to the-"

She let her voice trail off when she saw Booth shake his head disapprovingly.

"Remember we agreed we weren't going to talk about work?" He asked.

"That's not talking about work," she informed him, "you know, having as much information as I do in anthropology could be useful to you, Booth."

"Oh, I can't wait to hear why," he chuckled, leaning forward on his elbows so they were a tiny bit closer together, "this should be good."

By this time, Booth had already finished his pie and had the plate pushed to the side of the table, waiting for the waitress to come by and pick it up.

"Because," she paused, a small smile coming to her lips as she took his tie in her left hand and tugged on it so he was leaning a little further over the table now. She could see his pupils dilate slightly as her smile became slightly more wicked, "I have great knowledge of the human body, while you don't. There's so many things I need to teach you, Booth. Like this," she touched the line of his jaw with her right hand, "is your mandible. And this," she touched his collarbone through his shirt now, "is your clavicle."

"Bones," he chuckled, his cheeks slightly flushed now, "you should stop."

"Why?" She asked innocently, moving her hand back up to his 'mandible', as she just taught him, "I'm only teaching you about the human body. It's science. Squinty stuff."

"Did you do this when you were teaching Zach about the human body?" He chuckled.

"No. You get the 'special lesson'," she explained, letting go of his tie to put her hand over his, which was resting flat on the table before she pulled it up and laced her fingers through his.

"Phalanges," he commented, his mouth twisting into a half smile, "I know that one."

"You know, you get a reward for correct answers," she told him, her smile suggestive.

"And what would that be?" His smile mirrored hers.

"You don't get it until later."

"Temperance Brennan, you are such a tease."

"Like you're one to talk, mister 'one day, I'll show you what love making really is'."

"I said _one day_. That day has just still yet to come."

"What, do you have a date set? Marked on your calender?"

"No, but that's a good idea," he said, sarcastically.

Brennan gave him a stern look, pushing her empty milkshake glass to the side of the table with his plate now as she glared at him, not letting the look in his eyes that mirrored hers intimidate her. He wasn't going to establish his dominance over her this time. She'd make sure that he knew who was the alpha 'female'.

"There's no set date," he assured her, not taking his eyes off hers, "but I get to choose when it happens."

"Because you're the alpha male?" She asked, narrowing her eyes slightly.

"Because it was my idea," he corrected her, "and, I want it to be memorable for us. You're different, Bones. You're not just some random girl I picked up at the bar. We've been through a lot together, and I want the first time we actually, make love, to be special."

Her eyes softened as she gave the hand that was still tangled up in his a gentle squeeze.

"It will be special," she said, her voice softer now, "it doesn't matter where we are, or how romantic the scenery is. As long as it takes place between me and you, it'll be special," she paused, examining the look on his face as she giggled lightly, "you're blushing."

"I'm not blushing," he lied, glancing out the window, then back to her to break the intense stare, "it's just a little warm in here."

"You're lying," she accused, dropping his hand from hers "you're blushing because you're a prude."

"Oh God, let's not have _that_ conversation again," he laughed lightly, "just because I don't want to have long discussions about love making in the middle of the diner does not make me a prude."

"You get flustered whenever I say the _word_ sex," she told him, "we've done it before. I don't understand why it's still a touchy subject with you. You're an exceptional lover, Booth. I don't know why you get so uncomfortable when the topic comes up. Surely you've had plenty of practice."

"Bones, can we please, talk about something else," he begged, his head in his hands.

"Okay," she had a small, satisfied smile on her face when she saw how embarrassed he was getting, "would you rather talk about work?"

"Are those the only two topics you have programed in your software?" He asked.

"First of all, I'm not a computer, and second of all, I find them to be very stimulating topics," she informed him, "I'm not one of those people who can have an hour long conversation about the weather. I need to be interested."

"And the only two things that interest you are dead bodies and sex?"

"They are the topics I find most appealing, yes," she replied.

"Okay, Bones, that's the first sign that something is not right in your head," he tapped the top of her head for effect, as she gave him a disapproving look "how about your novel? Let's talk about that. How is that coming along? Is it going to be a hit? Is it practically writing itself?"

"It's scientifically impossible for a novel to write itself."

"It's a- you know what, never mind."

"So how about we talk about the subjects _you _like, like sports," she said, "so how are those Flyers doing? How many home runs did they score last week?"

"The Flyers are hockey, Bones," he shook his head in disappointment, "I'm not doing a very good job at teaching you these things."

"I think you're doing an okay job," she shrugged, "I know a lot more about sports now than I did before I met you. I still don't really understand the games when I watch them, but I know what team I'm supposed to cheer for when they score."

Booth chuckled at how clueless she was on sports. He found it adorable when she talked about sports, since she barely knew what she was talking about half the time.

"I have tickets to a Phillies game in a couple weeks if you want to come with Parker and I," he offered, as she smiled brightly.

"That sounds very enjoyable, spending time with you and Parker of course," she smiled at the charming half smile he was wearing now, "Phillies is football, correct?"

Booth laughed lightly as Brennan looked at him curiously.

"Baseball, Bones."

"Oh, well, either way, I'd like to join you."

"Good," Booth smiled, reaching into his pocket and putting the money to pay for their food on the table, "come on, Bones, it's getting late."

**(line break =])**

Brennan's breathing was irregular as the stubble of Booth's beard scratched lightly over where he was kissing her at that moment. They were in the back of his SUV, parked next to Brennan's car, since he was supposed to be bringing her there to pick it up, and they wound up getting distracted.

"Mandible," Brennan whispered, as his lips left steamy trails of kisses over her jaw bone, moving down her neck quickly, "clavicle, clavicle," she paused her incessant whispering of the bones in her body to let a small moan escape her lips, glancing down when his fingers worked at the buttons on her blouse, "Booth?"

"Present," his voice sounded slightly hoarse, her skin tingling where ever his lips touched.

Trying to control her breathing, she didn't respond, since she wasn't really sure why she asked for him in the first place. She figured it was just force of habit as he continued on his path.

"Sternum," she bit her lip to contain a moan, "sternum, sternum."

"Bones, what the hell are you chattering about up there?" He asked, pausing the kisses to glance up at her.

"Nothing," she promised, her fingers running through his hair, "continue."

"Not until you tell me what you're talking about."

"I was just naming the bones you were kissing," she said quickly, pushing gently on the back of his head to try and reconnect his lips with her skin.

Brennan let go of his hair when he sat up, away from her body, and fixed his shirt, his chest moving in rhythm with his heavy breathing.

"Booth!" She complained, sitting up as well, buttoning up her blouse at this point "you're such a tease."

"Simmer down, Bones," he chuckled, "this wasn't a date, so 'that' can't happen," he smiled charmingly, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Brennan had a sour expression on her face, but it quickly washed away when he planted a gentle kiss on her lips and pulled her into a hug that was different from their usual 'man hugs'.

"I love you, Booth," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"I love you too, Bones," he responded, kissing her head before she climbed back into the front seat, got out of the car, and went to hers.


	11. The Sully Jokes Are Really Getting Old

**A/N: I know, I know, I said Sully was coming back in this chapter, but it kind of started to write itself, and I figured the end was a good place to stop the chapter, so I promise, promise, triple promise he's coming back next chapter. That's what I get for giving spoilers to the new chapter before I even write it. xD And again, sincere thanks to everyone who's reviewed/alerted. I'm not going to lie and say they make me write faster, however, they do make me a happy camper. =] **

**And how about this, there are two linebreaks in this chapter! I know, I know, I spoil you guys. xD**

Chapter Eleven:

"The Sully Jokes Are Really Getting Old"

Hodgins had a file for Booth in his hand, describing the type of organic substance that was found in the shoes of one of their murder victims.

"Angela," he called out to his girlfriend, who was walking swiftly passed him.

"Hey hot stuff," she responded to him, turning on her heel to backtrack to where he was standing with the folder in his hand, "what's that? Find some creepy critters on the swamp victim? Or is that my record?"

Hodgins had to laugh a little.

"The organic material found in the swamp victim's shoes are native to where the body was found, which means that she was killed within only a few miles of where her body was dumped," he explained quickly, since that wasn't really what he wanted to talk about, "what's up with Brennan lately? Unless she's actively doing something, she doesn't really come out of her office anymore. And she barely wants to go out into the field with Booth. Is something going on with her? Because I'm her friend, and if she's going through a hard time, I care."

Angela knew why she didn't want to go out into the field with Booth, but she bit her tongue to keep from blurting it out. She'd confided in Angela, saying that going out into the field with Booth seemed like an awkward idea ever since they slept together, but she made her swear not to tell anyone. Feeling sorry about lying to her boyfriend, she only told him as much as she could.

"I know you care," Angela smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before she continued, "and, as far as I know, nothing's going on with her. She might just be finding her 'inner peace' in there or something. It's Brennan. I don't even ask anymore."

"I wanted to ask her if she was okay, but when I called her name, she answered and gave me the same look she always gives me. She seemed fine."

"She seems fine when she talks to me too," Angela shrugged, "maybe she's just getting sick of all the murders, like the rest of us. One person can only deal with going to so many crime scenes before they lose it."

Hodgins went to kiss her again, but stopped when he saw Cam speed walking past him. He stopped her before she could get far, handing her the file, telling her what was in it, and suggesting that she bring it to Booth.

**(line break =])**

Meanwhile, Brennan was in her office, a search engine up on her computer screen as she typed the words "baseball terminologies" into the search bar. She clicked 'search' and waited patiently for the results. Not bothering to scroll down, she went to the first web page that popped up, running her eyes over the words. Some of them she knew, like 'home run' and 'strike', but some of the others looked to her like they were in a different language, one that she didn't know. The only thing that startled her out of her research was the loud knocking on her office door.

"Come in," she called, not bothering to minimize or exit the baseball page.

The door creaked open, and Cam stepped into her office, waving the file up as she walked to her desk and plopped it in front of her.

"Can you bring this over to Booth?" She asked.

"Why me?" Brennan asked, her expression slightly confused as she glanced from the file to Cam, then back to the file as she opened it and glanced over the words, "this is Hodgins' 'thing'."

"Because, Doctor Brennan, you're the only one sitting in her office looking up," she glanced at the words on the screen, a look of confusion washing over her face when she saw it had to do with baseball, "baseball terms," she tapped a finger on the papers in the file, "I'm not asking you to build a rocket. Just bring this to Booth."

"Building a rocket would be completely pointless in our line of work."

Cam sighed and shook her head before walking out of her office, as Brennan exited the window with the baseball terminologies and headed towards her car to drive over to the FBI building.

**(line break =])**

Brennan knocked impatiently on the door of Booth's office, waiting until she heard him reply to open the door. When the door opened, and he was visible to her, she saw that he had his feet up on his desk, and was tossing a rubber ball in the air, catching it, and repeating the process.

"Bones," he caught the ball, but didn't resume his pattern as he smiled charmingly at her, "have you been hiding from me? I called you last night and you didn't answer. Then I came to get you this morning to question a possible suspect with me and Cam said you were busy."

"I _was_ busy," she informed him, dropping the file on his desk as he turned to take his feet off the desk and sit the right way in his chair, opening the file to look at it, "I had some ancient bones to authenticate this morning."

"Because I forgot ancient bones are more interesting than coming with your partner to question a suspect for murder," his voice was lower now, since he was only half concentrated on his words, the other half of his focus going to the file.

"I'm an anthropologist, Booth. I've just been working with murder lately. Identifying ancient bones is what I like to do. It doesn't have anything to do with you."

"I never said it did," Booth informed her, closing the file now to look back at her, "now I don't mean to sound like Sweets here, but the fact that you're getting defensive before I even say anything usually means that what you're saying is the issue."

"What?" Brennan asked, not following his unintelligent ramble.

"The fact that you didn't come out into the field with me this morning has something to do with me," she went to interrupt, but he stopped her, his elbow on the desk as he pointed an accusing finger at her, "and don't even say it doesn't because I knew it from the start."

"Didn't I just inform you that it has nothing to do with you?" She asked, "Do you listen?"

"What did I do, Bones? Quit beating around the bush."

"I don't know what that means."

"Just tell me what I did."

"Nothing! You didn't do anything!"

"I obviously did _something_. You're mad at me."

"I'm _getting_ angry with you because you won't let this go."

"And I won't until you tell me what your problem is."

"Well then you'll be waiting for eternity, because I have no problem."

Booth's eyes were cutting through her like knives as he looked at her sternly.

"I can be a very stubborn person, Temperance Brennan."

"Tell me something I don't know," she scoffed.

"There's nothing you don't know," he assured her, using his index finger to motion for her to come closer to him, "come on, Bones. Closer. Closer," he coaxed her, as if she were a cat, "around the desk. Come on, Bones," he stopped when she was standing in front of him, looking down at the agent sitting in his chair, "good," he had a satisfied smile on his face.

"I'm not a domestic animal, Booth," she said, as he stood up so they were more equally leveled height wise, even though he was still a little taller than her, "what?"

He leaned close to her, his voice smooth as velvet in her ear.

"I want you to," he whispered, pausing to nip gently at her earlobe, "kiss me. On the lips."

Brennan's eyes narrowed as she pulled away and looked at him skeptically, not responding to his playful affection.

"Why?" She questioned.

"Why?" He asked back at her, chuckling lightly, "take the offer or leave it."

"I can't kiss you here," she told him honestly, "because whenever your lips touch me, the part of my mind that separates wrong from right seems to get a little hazy. My emotions and desires take over. In simple terms," she leaned closer to whisper seductively in his ear now, switching the roles up a little, "you drive me crazy, Seeley Booth."

"And that's bad?" He asked, a small smirk coming to his lips.

"Yes, it's very bad. When you touch me," she took his hands and placed them on her waist, "I lose control of my senses, and all I can think about is having you."

"Call my crazy, but that sounds the opposite of bad," he kept his hands on her waist when she moved hers to frame his face in her hands, running her hands over the stubble, "and I think _you_ are the one driving _me_ crazy right now, Ms. Brennan. Is this your idea of foreplay?"

"Read the file, do your _job_, instead of trying to seduce me, and maybe you'll find out."

She let go of his face and wiggled from his grip, taking a step back and crossing her arms over her chest as she nodded towards the file, a triumphant smile taking over her lips. Before she could blink, he was back close, his body pressing against hers as he was the one to frame her face now, gently pushing the hair that touched her cheek out of the way.

"Booth," she whispered, the seductive tone in her voice fading away as she closed her eyes, letting him caress her face gently with his thumbs, "this really isn't a good ide-"

She was cut off when he pressed his lips to hers, pulling her face tight against his as her hands searched for a place to grab, or wrap around. They settled on the black suit jacket he was wearing, as they clutched to the fabric and pulled his body as close to hers as it could get, before he broke the kiss.

"This file," he told her between breaths, removing one hand from her face to pick up the file that was laying on his desk, nibbling gently on her bottom lip, "means nothing to me."

"What do you mean?" Brennan asked, moaning softly when his teeth grazed her lip, but making no attempt to stop him.

"I mean, Cullen took me off the case," he informed her, kissing the corner of her mouth.

Brennan let go of his jacket now, taking a step back again.

"Because of me?" She asked, "Did that rat bastard, head shrinking, pain in the ass-"

Booth chuckled as he wiped his mouth, which was still slightly red from the force of their kiss, and smoothed out his jacket, which had become slightly wrinkled in spots from Brennan's grip.

"No, Bones, Sweets didn't say anything" he assured her, "when I went out into the field this morning, I kind of, lost my temper."

"What did you shoot?" She asked.

"Nothing, nothing," he promised, "there were just punches thrown and guns pulled. It was just, not a very good day. And after I got a long and grueling lecture from both Cullen and Sweets, they took me off the case and put me on desk duty."

"I will not go out into the field with another agent if they ask me to," she stated plainly.

"You won't even go out into the field with me," he reminded her.

"Booth, it was one time! I was busy!"

"With bones that are practically fossilized."

"You're very snippy today," she observed.

"What did I tell you about that word? Get with the program, Bones."

"What program? Is there a program for slang talk? Because that could help me immensely when it comes to being around you."

"The figurative program," he put his head in his hands and let out a long sigh at how clueless she was, "now if you'll excuse me, I have some very exciting paperwork waiting for me."

"I'm going to assume that was sarcasm."

Without responding to her, Booth picked his head up and picked up his pen, taking a paper out of a large stack, setting it in front of him before he started to write.

"I hate to interrupt you from your incredibly mind stimulating paperwork, but I have to point out that you could have saved us both a lot of time and energy if you just told me you were off the case when I first walked in."

"Eh, I figured I'd have a little fun with you first," he smirked playfully up at her, pointing towards the door, "get going, you sexy little squint. Maybe later you can finish teaching me about all the bones in my body, because I'm very, very, anxious to learn, Temperance."

Brennan felt her cheeks get slightly warm.

"You don't care about the bones in your body, you just want me to touch them," she reminded him, smiling back.

"Are you accusing me of lying, Doctor Brennan? Because, as a Federal Agent, I have the power to handcuff you for that."

"Save that for later, Mr. Booth," she smirked at his playful side, "after all this talk, I'm hoping I don't have to work late again."

"Even if you do, I'll make you come out and play, baby," he flashed her a semi-seductive half smile, completely forgetting his paperwork.

"Well, Mr. Booth, can you control the kinky thoughts racing through your mind right now long enough to tell me where to bring this file?"

"Oh, right," Booth snapped out of flirtatious mode and back into professional mode, "bring them to Sully."

He brought his eyes back down to his paperwork, her smile fading at the mention of Sully, the fun, flirtatious mood completely ruined from his little joke.

"The Sully jokes are really getting old," she informed him, her expression clearly annoyed as she put her hand on the doorknob, "seriously, where do I take this?"

"That one wasn't a joke, Bones," he said, not looking up from his papers, "Sully is the new agent in charge of the Swamp Sweetheart case."

"Swamp Sweetheart?" She rolled her eyes at his choice for the case name.

"Yes," he answered simply, "Sully. Go."

"Can't you?" She asked, the slightest bit of attitude detectable in her voice, "Sully and I haven't even spoken in over a year."

He looked up at her, giving her 'the look' when she asked if he could do it. Without using words at first, he gestured towards the stack of papers sitting on his desk.

"Was it the paper part you didn't understand, or the work part?"

She glared at him as she twisted the doorknob, opening the door to his office.

"I really can't stand you sometimes," she let him know, before closing the door behind her and starting towards the office she needed to go to, the office of Tim Sullivan.


	12. Hey, Stranger

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who's read, reviewed, and story alerted =] It means so much to me. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it. =] And if you are reading, don't hesitate to comment or construct.**

**Just for the record, from now on things in bold/italics are flashbacks, because thoughts are in italics, and if I put the flashbacks in italics, it could get confusing, you dig? =]**

**Oh, and I forgot to say this at chapter ten, but we're in double digits now! Whoop whoop! Special thanks to everyone who's R&Red. I can't believe I'm already at chapter twelve when I still remember shaking like a lost puppy when I posted the first chapter, afraid I was going to get torn apart. xD Okay, shutting up now. I have a rambling problem. xD**

Chapter Twelve:

"Hey, Stranger"

Brennan glanced up at every door she passed until she stopped in front of the one that read 'Agent Tim Sullivan', the big bold letters on the door seeming to taunt her. Reluctantly, she cupped her hand slightly and gave a half hearted knock on the door, waiting for a response.

"It's open," she heard Sully's voice call from inside his office, making her stomach tie into a big, nervous, knot.

Putting her hand on the doorknob, Brennan turned it and opened the door, seeing the expression on his face change from bored to shocked in a matter of seconds. He stood from his chair and walked over to her. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest out of nervousness, since it had been so long since the past lovers saw each other. The last time they saw one another, they were in love. Brennan remembered every little detail about that day, as her mind brought her quickly back.

_**Brennan felt her eyes start to burn as she waved to the man she thought she loved, as he sailed away from Washington D.C. without her, on the boat that he named Temperance. She kept her hand in a wave until he faded out of sight, and the burning sensation in her eyes became worse. Before she could actually cry, she turned around, her heart practically stopping when she saw who was standing behind her. Booth had come to comfort her, and she felt nothing but gratitude towards that. Her heart began to pound when he put his arm around her, holding her close as they walked away from where Sully kept his boat. Sully had just left D.C., left her standing alone, and the only thing she could think about was Booth. The only reason she wasn't on that boat with Sully was Booth. And although she never said the words, even in her head, some part of her, knew she was in love with him. Sully didn't matter anymore, now that Booth had his arm around her shoulders and was comforting her with his words.**_

Even though it felt like the flashback lasted a few minutes, Brennan realized it was only a couple seconds, after Sully started to speak, the surprise noticeable in his voice.

"Hey, stranger," he gave her a very big and cheesy smile, the way he always would have.

Brennan, not following the sarcasm in his voice, felt her heart drop into her stomach.

"You don't remember me?" She asked.

Sully had to laugh lightly.

"Same old Tempe, I see," he chuckled, "I wasn't actually saying you were stranger. It was a way to emphasize the fact that I haven't seen you in forever."

Brennan couldn't help but wonder how Booth would have responded to that. He would have probably just rolled his eyes and said something along the lines of: "Bones, it's just an expression." She was starting to wonder if it was normal how much she thought about him.

"Oh," Brennan's eyes were still slightly confused as she looked at him, "forever is not a very rational time frame, considering we're still here."

"Oh, Tempe," he sighed, shaking his head as he smiled at her, "you look, amazing."

"Well it's only been a year," she reminded him, "people's appearances usually don't change drastically in a single year, unless they're going from, newborn to one year old. But, that isn't relevant, because I'm not an infant."

"I didn't think it was possible that you got more intelligent," he gave her a half smile, "is there a reason you're spouting all these facts at me? Are you mad that I left without you?"

"No, of course not," she promised, shaking her head, "you offered for me to join you and I said no. So there's not reason for me to be mad at you. If anything, you'd be mad at me."

"Well I'm not," he said, the half smile never leaving his lips, "so that's that."

Brennan nodded as Sully's mind raced through the thoughts.

_What should I do? Do I hug her? Or do I just keep smiling like an idiot. I should probably hug her, but what if she doesn't want to hug me? That would just be awkward. God, Sully, get it together. You used to sleep with this woman for God sakes, and now you're afraid of her? _

"So," Sully managed, finally settling on not hugging her, "what brings you here?"

"Right," Brennan remembered why she went to his office in the first place, as she handed him the file, "I went to bring this to Booth and he told me you were in charge of the case now."

"Yeah, that's Booth," Sully laughed lightly, "he always had a short fuse."

Brennan bit her tongue to refrain from sticking up for Booth, since she didn't want Sully to suspect that something was going on between them. She just watched as he opened the file and read over it, his eyes seeming completely focused on the words, as opposed to how Booth would read files. "Organic material, blah, blah, blah, native, blah, blah, blah, within a few miles."

"How is Hodgins anyway?" Sully asked, when he finished reading and closed the file, "are him and Angela still together?"

"He and Angela are still seeing each other, yes," she responded, "they were going to get married before Angela found out that she was married."

Sully gave her a curious look.

"It's a long story," Brennan said, "and I wouldn't mind telling you, but I really need to get back to the Jeffersonian before Cam realizes how long I've been gone. I lost track of time talking to Booth."

_Talking_, her mind laughed at her, _that's not the most accurate description of what you were doing._

She went to leave the office before Sully stopped her.

"Wait, Tempe," he said, making her turn to face him again, "I'm going to have to go back and question the guy who found the body, if you want to come with me. I know you usually go with Booth, but I understand if you're busy or something."

"Sorry, Sully, but I really am busy at the Jeffersonian tomorrow," she lied, since she honestly just didn't want to go with him, "I've been very caught up with work lately, so I don't think I'll be able to go."

"No, no, it's fine," he assured her, "I'll just go with another agent. No harm done."

Brennan smiled at him before she left his office, leaving hastily, since she knew everyone was going to be suspicious as to why she was gone so long once she got back to the Jeffersonian. Damn Booth. Why did he have to be so charming? If she was in trouble, it was on him.

**(line break)**

"Doctor Brennan," Cam's voice sounded surprised when Brennan went quickly inside, swiping her card before entering the forensics platform, "how nice of you to join us again. Did you have a nice trip?"

"I didn't take a trip, Doctor Saroyan, I was bringing the file to the FBI building."

"Well you certainly took time to stop and smell the roses on the way."

"There were no roses in the building."

"It's just an expression, Doctor Brennan. What took so long anyway?"

"Well when I got to Booth's office he told me that he got taken off the case because he got into a fist fight with one of the suspects. So then I had to go find the new agent in charge of the case and it took me a while to find his office. So it's perfectly understandable that I took a little longer than usual."

Cam sighed and shook her head at the mention of what Booth did to get in trouble.

"When will he learn?" She questioned aloud, turning back to Brennan, "Who's working the case now?"

"Agent Sullivan."

"Sully!" Angela cut in, startling Brennan a bit, since she didn't know she was even on the forensic platform at the moment, "Ooh, I see this as a sign, sweetie. Maybe when you and Sully go to question a suspect, you can catch up a little, maybe grab a motel on the way back."

"Angela!" Brennan scolded, "I don't want to be with Sully."

She was surprised Angela was saying this, considering she was the only one, aside from Sweets, who knew about her and Booth. Brennan figured maybe Angela was just saying it so people didn't suspect anything. If Sully came up, and Angela didn't comment, people might get suspicious.

"No one said you guys had to be together, maybe just a roll in the hay," she suggested, "you know, you don't even talk. Just go to the hotel, rip off each other's clothes, and-"

Cam held her hand up to stop her as she peered at the bones of the swamp victim.

"Now, Angela, most people would find that standing over a dead body is one of those places where the topic of sex isn't really appropriate."

Angela brushed off Cam's comment with a smile.

"Please. I'm the girl who asked Booth if he and Brennan slept together at church."

"She presents a valid point," Brennan shrugged, "Angela has no sifter."

"You mean, filter, sweetie," Angela corrected her.

"It's not literal anyway, so what does it matter?"

"Well I don't want you to sound unintelligent."

Brennan laughed, seeming to be amused by Angela's statement.

"I don't think it's possible for someone as intellectual as I am to sound unintelligent."

"Hello?" Cam interrupted their quarrel, "Does no one else see the bones of a murder victim laying on the autopsy table? You can finish this conversation later."

Angela shot Cam a quick and barely noticeable dirty look before she put her gloves on and picked up the skull, taking it to do the facial reconstruction. Once Cam and Angela walked off, Brennan began to study the bones, looking for a cause of death, the voices throughout the Jeffersonian eventually becoming just white noise as she got sucked into her work.

**(line break)**

Brennan had lost track of time and by the time she left the Jeffersonian, it was already two in the morning. She'd called Booth before she left, but he didn't answer. Then she stopped by his house on the way home, knocking on the door for a couple minutes before she left, seeing that he wasn't there either. Now, she was outside his office, and, without knocking, she opened the door, to find a sleeping Seeley Booth. He had his head on his desk, pen still in hand, but was fast asleep. Brennan shut the door silently, trying her best not to disturb him as she walked behind him and put her hands gently on his shoulders, rubbing them gently.

"Booth," she said, softly, not wanting to startle him awake.

"Mmm," he mumbled, picking his head up slightly as he rubbed his eyes and glanced at his watch, then back up at her, "what happened?"

"You were sleeping," she explained, her hands rubbing his shoulders, as if helping him to relax.

"I can't believe it's two thirty in the morning already, I honestly don't even remember falling asle- Oh, God, Bones, did you take massage classes or something?"

Booth arced his shoulders in a stretch under her hands as she worked them over his shoulder blades, releasing the tension in some parts.

"No," she said simply, "but I know the pressure points in the body and the amount of pressure it takes to relieve tension in different parts of the body. And I've been told that it feels very pleasing when I do this," she used her knuckles to rub between his shoulder blades.

Brennan knew he agreed when she heard him groan in appreciation at the released tension in his shoulders, knowing it was from relief rather than arousal.

"The tension in your muscles is an indicator of stress," she informed him, her hands working their way to the middle of his back now, her thumbs emitting just the right amount of pressure on his back.

"I'm an," he paused to groan in relief again, "FBI Agent, Bones. Stress should be in my job description."

"I think if you let me do this more often you won't be as aggressive," she advised.

"I'm not aggressive, I'm just, easily annoyed," he corrected her.

"Call it what you want, but it's because you aren't relaxed."

"And you think letting you rub my shoulders is going to magically make me a happy-go-lucky, patient person?"

"It's science, Booth. If you're muscles aren't tensed up, and you're not in any sort of pain or under any stress, you won't snap as quickly. You'll be calmer and more relaxed."

"A shoulder rub isn't going to change who I've always been."

She ignored his stubbornness as she slipped his suit jacket over his shoulders so his thin, button down shirt was the only thing separating her fingers from his skin.

"Shh," she hushed him, "you'll never be able to relax if you're arguing with me."

"Are you making this into something sexual?" He asked, when she took off his jacket for him, "because I was kind of just enjoying my relaxing back rub."

"No! It's just easier like this. Don't work yourself up. I'm not stopping."

"Mmm, good," he chuckled, closing his eyes to get lost in her touch.

When he rested his head back on his desk, Brennan stopped, tapping his shoulder.

"Come on, Booth, you're falling asleep again."

"No I'm not," he mumbled, clearly half asleep.

She ignored the obvious lie as he stood up and stretched his back out, his shoulders and mid back feeling refreshed from the back rub.

"You never finished," he complained, covering his mouth when he yawned.

"Well you were sitting in your chair, Booth, I couldn't reach," she reminded him.

Booth slid his suit jacket back on before the left his office.

"You can come back to my place and finish, if you're up for it," he suggested.

"Booth, you can barely keep your eyes open," she laughed, "we're not having sex."

"You're the one that said it, not me," he smiled playfully.

Brennan rolled her eyes playfully as she guided him to her car.

"Come on, you'll stay with me tonight. I'm not letting you drive home when you're half asleep. It isn't safe."

"Bones," he groaned in frustration, getting into the passenger side as she got in the driver's seat and started up the car, "I'm not going to fall asleep behind the wheel."

He was pretty sure she said something else, but he didn't remember, since by the time she finished her sentence, he was asleep again, his head propped against the window as she drove.


	13. Because You Seduced Me

**A/N: I didn't get as many reviews/alerts as I have in past chapters, but that's okay. =] I still thank everyone who's ever reviewed and alerted, and the people who have given me kind comments. It honestly means so much to me, knowing I can come onto a site with such amazing talent, and have people praise my work. It's making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. xD **

**Okay, I figured it was a good time for a little B&B steam. Nothing graphic though, considering I'm only fourteen, so my knowledge on the subject isn't as clear as some other people. Everything I know is from television, movies, reading, and some of my more 'mature' friends. xDD**

Chapter Thirteen:

"Because You Seduced Me"

"Booth. Booth! Booth, come on."

Booth shifted from the comfortable position he was in to one that wasn't so comfortable, making his ever present belt buckle dig into his side. He only vaguely remembered Brennan waking him up when they got back to her house and walking to her bedroom, immediately falling back asleep, despite the fact that he was still in his work clothes. The only thing that startled his eyes open was the feeling of something freezing cold on the back of his neck.

"Bones, what the hell?" Was the first thing out of his mouth that morning as he flipped back onto his back to get away from the cold.

"What?" Brennan asked innocently, not seeing what his problem was.

"You're hands are freezing!" He exclaimed, sitting up now that he was pretty much wide awake, "What were you doing? Soaking them in ice water?"

"Well I just came in from outside so that could be the reason," she mused, "or maybe your skin is just unusually warm, although I would have probably taken notice to that. Here, let me feel again."

Booth quickly dodged her hand before it could reach his neck again.

"Dear God, no," he said, "there is no way in hell those hands are coming anywhere near me again. Not until you run them under hot water at least. You could have woken me up from a coma like that."

"That's highly unlikely," she informed him, "when your body goes into a coma-"

Brennan let her voice trail when she saw the disapproving look on his face.

"Bones, it is too early to be trying to 'stimulate' my mind," he used the word that he was fairly confident was her favorite in the dictionary, putting emphasis on it.

"I'm not trying to stimulate your mind," she informed him, "I'm just trying to help you learn things that you didn't know before and stretch your knowledge. And besides, the fact that it's early doesn't have anything to do with how functional your mind is."

"Of course it does," he smiled confidently, "you're mind isn't fully functional until at least your second cup of coffee. Everyone knows that."

"That is not a scientifically proven fact."

"You know, you're like, a double pain in the ass in the morning."

Ignoring his swipe at her, she sat at the edge of the bed next to where he was sitting with his back against the headboard and turned slightly sideways to face him. Without any indicator, she took his face between her hands and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

"Wow, Bones," he laughed lightly when she pulled away, "persuasive."

"Did it work?" She asked.

"What are you talking about?"

"I kissed you because I saw that you were getting annoyed by me, and I thought maybe that would make you forget."

"Well then the answer to your question is yes," Booth half smiled that charming, Booth-y grin, "it worked."

It was Booth who leaned in to kiss her now, claiming her lips to himself as he moved his hands to gently caress her cheek. Brennan's face was burning hot, as she parted her lips once she felt his tongue trace gently along her bottom lip, practically begging for entry. A chill ran through her body when his tongue slid into her mouth only seconds after she granted it access. She felt as if her heart were going to pound out of her chest when their tongues glided over each other's. Feeling unusually submissive, Brennan wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him take full control of the kiss. She only gasped a little bit against his lips when he leaned her back so her back was to the mattress, wasting no time before disconnecting their lips and moving his to her mandible.

"Booth," she whispered, her whole body trembling as he kissed her, "work."

Booth shook his head as he kissed slowly, but teasingly over her jaw bone.

"I finished all my paperwork yesterday," he informed her, speaking only between kisses as his lips made their way to the side of her neck, nipping gently at the skin.

"I still-Oh, Seeley!" she paused to squeak his name in surprise when he nipped at her sensitive spot, "I still have to go in and," she paused again to moan softly, feeling as if she may never finish this one sentence that needed to be said, before her senses were once again stolen from her by Booth, as she continued from where she left off, "help with the swamp case."

"No you don't," he told her, casually, pausing to breathe teasingly on her neck, "not right now at least. You can go in late, after I have my way with you."

"Booth," she moaned, half from complaint and half from the feeling of his breath on her neck, "I can't just casually stroll into work late in the middle of a murder investigation. Not only is that completely unethical, but Angela always knows when someone just had-"

Her words stopped when she felt his finger press against her lips.

"Shhhh," he dragged out his hush extra long as she half whimpered against his finger, "I don't care about work right now, Bones. It's been two weeks, and the last time it happened was the morning after the first time it happened. We've only done it twice."

"That's more times then we did three weeks ago," she tried to reason with him.

"Hush, Bones," he scolded her softly, moving his lips back to hers, whispering in a seductive tone against her lips, "don't talk. Speaking time is over," his fingers traced gently over the skin of her arms, "like you said, sometimes we just need to satisfy our biological urges."

"You chose to have these urges at a highly inconvenient time," she drew in a shaking breath as he kissed the corner of her mouth, teasing her lips, "I have to, go to work."

"This conversation is going nowhere," he pointed out to her, the other side of her lips longing for contact when he kissed the right corner of her mouth.

"Booth," she moaned gently against his mouth, "you make it very difficult to say no to you when you tease like that."

"Then don't say no," he whispered, kissing her lips fully again, knowing he had gotten his way when he felt her lips part without any encouragement from him that time.

Brennan was lost in their kiss for only a few seconds before her mind scolded her.

_Don't let him tempt you like that_, her mind screamed, _don't give in!_

Shaking her head before doing so, Brennan pressed her hands gently against his chest and pushed him with only enough force to disconnect his lips from hers. Before he got another chance to tempt her again, she quickly stood up from the bed and went into the bathroom connected to her room, not closing the door behind her. When he heard the water in the sink start to run, Booth became slightly curious as to what she was doing.

"What the hell are you doing, Bones?" He asked, not wanting to get up and follow her in, incase she was getting changed or something, "Bones?"

The sink was only on for a couple seconds before it turned off again, and Brennan made her way quickly back to him. Before he could ask what she was up to, she flicked the cold water off her hands at him, as he laughed and attempted to shield his face.

"No, no, no," she repeated the word with each flick of water until there wasn't enough left to flick, "you hormonal son of a bitch."

She wiped the remaining water on her hands on her sweat pants, brushing her hair out of her face afterwards, as Booth peeked out from behind his hands to make sure he was safe.

"Jeez, Bones, touchy," he commented at her choice in words, and actions, a playful smile on his lips "what was that for?"

"For not listening to me," she told him, also smiling, "I was informed that if a cat keeps doing something after you tell them not to, you're supposed to spray them with water. I just thought that maybe the same method could work on you. Plus the fact that if I didn't get out from under you in a couple minutes, you would have sucked me in."

"You're right, I probably would have," he confirmed, "you can't resist me for long."

"I know," she concurred, walking to her closet to pull out the dress she had planned to wear to work that day, "and it wouldn't have been good if you did wind up getting your way, because I think Cam is getting suspicious. She was pumping me yesterday."

"Pumping you?" Booth questioned.

"You know, asking me relentless questions about what took me so long."

"Bones, that doesn't mean she suspects anything. She's smart, but not _that_ smart. She's not thinking that we're hooking up just because you took longer than usual yesterday."

"Then why was she pumping me?"

"First of all, stop using the word 'pumping'. And second, she was probably just curious."

Brennan scoffed as she pulled off her tank top and sweat pants, to reveal her black lace bra and matching panties, not caring that Booth was right there in the room, as she turned the dress around multiple times in her hands to get it facing forward. She stepped into it and pulled it up to cover her, slipping her arms into the short sleeves as she reached behind her, struggling to find the zipper. When she was about to reach it, she felt Booth's hand grab her's stopping her short.

"No, let me," he insisted, as Brennan huffed at his persistence, but made no effort to stop him or even say a simple 'no'.

Brennan knew he was trying to tease her as his cold fingers 'accidently' fumbled with the zipper, and brushed against the warm skin of her back, causing her to let out a small whimper.

"Sorry," Booth whispered when she yelped, zipping the back up slowly before moving his hands to her shoulders

"Okay," Brennan's voice was slightly shaky as she felt him slip the sleeve of her dress down slightly, so her shoulder wasn't covered, "Booth, I only needed help with the zipper."

She attempted to crane her neck around to see what he was up to before she gave up.

"Booth, what are you do-" she gasped slightly when his cold lips connected with her shoulder, "you need to stop doing th-Oh, Seeley."

The words she was about to say slipped from her mind after she had to pause to moan his first name, which was usually an indicator that she was slipping into that hazy zone where she wasn't as rational as normal. When she felt his hands on her waist, she quickly put hers over them, moving them with his as they caressed gently over her waist.

"What was that?" He asked playfully, knowing she'd changed her mind.

Brennan guided his hands up her waist and back to the zipper on her dress.

"Seeley," she moaned again at the sensation of his lips on her shoulder blade, his fingers trailing over the zipper, but not daring to unzip it, "please."

"Please what?" He asked, getting great enjoyment out of teasing her like this, as he finally started to very slowly and teasingly unzip the back of her dress.

Brennan wanted to tell him what she wanted, but the words that formed in her head didn't seem able to actually come out in a sentence. He stopped the kissing of her shoulder when she went silent, his fingers moving away from the half undone zipper. Her moan showed her frustration with him.

"don't stop," she whispered breathlessly, her moan slightly louder than usual when he nipped at the crease between her shoulder and her neck, "Seeley! Please!"

_Ah, so that's her spot_, Booth thought to himself, a wicked smile on his face.

"Please what?" His voice was still seductive as he covered her newly discovered spot with feather light kisses.

"I-" Brennan was about to squeak out a response before she felt the sensation of his tongue gently tracing over the spot he'd been kissing, her hand finding his as she pulled it back to touch her waist again and squeezed it gently, letting a few moans slip between shaking breaths, "Oh, God, Seeley."

"You don't believe in God," he reminded her, his fingers toying with the material of her dress at her waist.

"Mmm," she moaned, unable to form any audible words, slapping his hand in frustration when the feeling of his lips, along with his tongue, left her skin, "Seeley," she dragged out his name in a long, desperate sounding moan, "don't stop. Please. Don't stop. I, I want-I want-"

She had to stop to breath again when his lips reunited with her spot, her hand grasping at his to squeeze it tightly. He was starting to feel a little bad for messing with her, but he had to admit that hearing her moan his rarely used first name erotically was extremely hot.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered teasingly in her ear, feeling her body tremble slightly.

"You," she answered in a small voice, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Good girl," he praised her smoothly, quickly finishing the zipper on her dress before she turned and threw her arms back around his neck, pressing her lips hastily to his.

**(line break =])**

Brennan had barely caught her breath from their little romp in the sack before she started to grab her clothes from where they lay next to the bed and slide them on quickly.

"Dammit, Booth," she huffed, sliding her dress back on quickly over her shoulders as she glanced at the clock, glancing to him to make sure he was getting dressed just as quickly.

"Oh, Bones, don't even try and tell me you didn't enjoy that," he chuckled, finishing getting dressed only a couple seconds before her.

"Just because I enjoyed it doesn't mean it was a worthwhile use of my time," she informed him, shoving her phone quickly into her purse as she looked at the clock again, mumbling some profanities under her breath as she walked hastily out of the house, with Booth following close behind, "if I get fired, have fun paying my bills along with yours."

"Bones, you're not going to get fired for being late," he rolled his eyes at how dramatic she could be as he got into her car, watching her with slight amusement as she shoved the keys into the ignition like she was fleeing the country, "I don't think Cam cares that much."

"She seems to be on edge lately," Brennan told him as she sped towards the parking lot closest to his building so he could get his car, "I can't believe I let you seduce me."

"Hey, ultimately, you were the one that said it, not me," he held up his hands in defense, "as far as I'm concerned, I was just helping you with your dress and you threw yourself at me."

"I'm not finding this nearly as amusing as you are."

"Thanks for the news update, Bones. Because I really couldn't have figured that out by the way you're snapping at me. You know, I didn't do this alone. You participated just as much as I did."

"Because you seduced me," she reminded him, "it was my body's natural reaction to you having your hands all over me."

"So your arousal now has a mind of it's own?"

"When it comes to you, yes," she admitted ashamedly, her cheeks flushing a light pinkish color, "sometimes when you touch me, everything goes black. I don't know how to scientifically explain that reaction, but it happens. Everything just goes blank, like you're, causing my mind to shut down, which I know is not possible, but that's the way it feels."

She parked next to his car, getting to the lot in record time, as the silence seemed to fill up the car.

"I'm sorry, Bones," he said, honestly, "if you get in trouble, I'll take the heat."

"How?" She asked.

"I'll think of something," he promised, giving her a soft kiss on the lips before he got out of the car, "I love you, Temperance."

"I love you too," she said softly, leaving out his name, since she'd said that quite enough for the day.

Before he closed the door, Booth popped back in, a small smile on his lips.

"And thank you," he smirked.

Brennan rolled her eyes playfully as she smiled, not responding to him as he shut the door and gave her a small wave before he went back to his SUV.

"Thank _you_," she whispered, glad he couldn't hear her, as she pulled out of the parking lot and started towards the Jeffersonian, bracing herself for whatever lecture she was going to get from Cam.


	14. What Would Be The Fun In That?

**A/N: Thank you everyone who's commented/alerted, even though you're probably sick of hearing me say it by now. xD **

**I got a review asking if Cam was really harassing her or if Brennan was just being paranoid, so the answer to that is Brennan is just being paranoid. I know Cam's character wouldn't care if Brennan was late to work, and I'm trying to stay as in-character as I possibly can here, so, yeah. =]**

Chapter Fourteen:

"What Would Be The Fun In That?"

Brennan slipped her lab coat on before going out to the forensics platform, feeling strangely nervous for some reason. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knew Cam could care less if she came in late, but the front of her mind just kept screaming the irrational fears of getting caught with Booth and having their partnership severed.

"Hey, here she is," Hodgins was the first one to see Brennan when she swiped her card to grant her access to the platform.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she apologized, glancing to Cam to try and read her facial expression, "I was here until two in the morning last night and I didn't get to bed until late, so I overslept."

"Woah, someone's got a guilty conscience," Hodgins had to laugh a little at Brennan's rambling excuses as to why she was late, "if you killed someone, don't worry. Angie and I will help you hide the body."

"Hodgins, I'm appalled that you think I would be able to murder a human being," Brennan said, not picking up on the joking tone in his voice.

Cam had to laugh at how defensive and uptight Brennan seemed.

"Don't worry about it, Doctor Brennan," she assured her, "we all have those nights, and mornings. Nothing exciting going on today anyway. Just some ancient bones."

"You're not mad?" Brennan asked, pulling on her gloves as she made her way over to the the autopsy table with the ancient bones laid out on it.

Cam looked at her curiously, raising her eyebrow in slight suspicion.

"Should I be?"

"No, you should not be," Brennan said seriously, "overslept. Just overslept."

Hodgins leaned over to whisper in Angela's ear.

"What's up with Brennan?" he asked.

"It's Brennan, you know how she gets," Angela laughed lightly, "but don't worry about it. I totally know why she's in defense mode, and I'll take care of it once we're alone."

"Are you going to share your knowledge of the subject with your boyfriend?" He asked, hopefully, "because, you know I'm very trustworthy. What ever you say, doesn't pass these lips."

"It's not a big deal," Angela said, motioning for Hodgins to lean closer so Brennan didn't hear them talking about her, even though she was too absorbed in ancient bones by this point to hear anything around her, "but that girl is practically screaming 'early morning sex'."

Hodgins was a little surprised by Angela's observation as he looked from Brennan, back to his girlfriend standing close to him.

"She is?" He asked, taking another glance at Brennan, "I didn't pick up on it."

"How can you not?" Angela asked, "She seems completely satisfied, which, incase you haven't noticed, is usually not Brennan at all, she's practically glowing with that sexual aura, and, not to mention, she smells like a mixture of her perfume and a guy's cologne."

"She did smell different," Hodgins pondered, his pupils dilating slightly before he leaned back in to speak to Angela quietly, "she smelled, familiar. Do you think it was someone we know? Like, someone who works here?"

"I doubt it," Angela said, checking each word before it came out of her mouth to make sure she didn't slip up and spill the beans about Booth, "it was probably Sully."

Hodgins gave her a nod and thumbs up at her observation, pecking her lips.

"I love you, and your power to smell sex on people," he smiled.

"It's one of my superpowers," she assured him, pecking his lips again.

"Oh, you are so hot," Hodgins beamed in admiration, before she rolled her eyes playfully and went to do her facial reconstruction, making sure she swayed her hips extra at that moment, since she knew Hodgins had his eyes on her.

**(line break)**

About an hour and a half later, things were peaceful at the Jeffersonian, with everyone working on what they were supposed to be doing without distraction. That was, until Cam and Zach, who'd joined her on the platform just recently, heard the swipe of a card, and the loud, familiar voice of their favorite FBI agent echo through the lab.

"Hey, Squint Squad," Booth greeted them cheerfully.

"Booth," Cam smiled, her voice audibly surprised to see him there, "what are you doing here? I thought you were off the case?"

"I am," he told her, glancing around for Brennan, "where's Bones? I have to give her the great news that she now, officially, has an FBI agent to drag around with her at that Jeffersonian annual Valentines day party, or event, or whatever you squinty types call it."

"A banquet," Zach's voice came from a distance, as he hovered over a set of bones, "aren't you supposed to be on desk duty for being belligerent?"

"Boy, news sure does travel fast in here, doesn't it?" Booth's voice was slightly bitter and irritated before Cam answered his original 'where's Bones?' question.

"She's in her office," Cam said, as Booth thanked her and stepped off the platform, "but, Booth," she called, as he turned to face her once more, "she's going to try and say she's not going, even though we all told her it was mandatory."

"Don't worry, she'll want to go once she knows she has a date," he assured her, starting to walk towards Brennan's office again, greeting Hodgins, without stopping, on his way with a brotherly punch in the shoulder, "my man, Hodgins. How's it going?"

Hodgins just gave him a nod and a 'hey Booth', since, by the time he'd finished his sentence, he was already a few feet in front of him. Just when he started to ponder why he seemed to be in such a good mood that morning, he caught the scent of his cologne that still lingered in the air, causing something to click in his mind, before he turned on his heel, completely forgetting what he was about to do, as he made his way quickly to Angela.

Angela was in her office, soft music filling the room as she focused on the reconstruction, which was about halfway finished. Her mind was completely absorbed in the skull in front of her, until she heard her office door swing quickly open, then closed, causing her to practically jump from her chair.

"Hodgins!" She scolded him, turning to face him, her hand over her heart, "God, you scared me to death," she paused to rethink her choice in words, "I guess this guy," she gestured towards the skull, "doesn't really see the humor in that reaction."

"It was Booth!" Hodgins exclaimed, completely ignoring everything she just said.

"What was Booth?" She asked, completely lost at this point.

"Brennan! Remember you were talking about how she definitely had a 'morning delight' with Sully this morning? Well it wasn't Sully. It was Booth! He was just here, looking for her."

"Hodgins, that doesn't mean anything," Angela said, her mind searching for a way to get his mind to stray from the Booth suspicion and just believe that it was Sully.

"That's not why," he shook his head, "when he came in, he was way too cheerful for someone who just got suspended from work. And, when he walked past me and said hello, I smelled it."

"Hodgins, you can't really smell sex, that's only my way of putting it."

"Not sex, the cologne. The cologne I said had a familiar smell? It's Booth. Come on, Ange, work with me here. You're the one who's been swearing they've been sleeping together for years, and now you finally have some hard evidence and-" he cut himself off, pointing an accusing finger at her, "you knew, didn't you?"

"Knew what?" She asked innocently.

"That Brennan and Booth are sleeping together."

"They're not! Well at least I don't think they are. She's into Sully, she told me."

"You're lying. I can tell. You're making the lying face."

Angela glanced around to make sure no one was peeking into the office or eavesdropping before she went to the little window and pulled the blinds shut, lowering her voice.

"You can not tell anyone, okay?" She said, feeling immensely guilty, even though he had figured it out on his own, "Bren swore me to secrecy. She doesn't want anyone to know. She didn't even want _me_ to know. I found out on my own."

Hodgins made a motion to signal 'zipping his lips' as Angela gave him a small smile.

"How long though?" He asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"How long what?" She asked back.

"How long have Brennan and Booth been," he made a hand gesture to signify his words, "you know, 'knocking boots'?"

"Knocking boots?" She questioned his choice in words.

"Well, I mean, I didn't want to be explicit."

Angela had to laugh lightly, rolling her eyes playfully at him.

"About a week and a half, maybe two," she answered unsurely, "Brennan and I don't really talk about it that much. I don't think she likes to. It's like, even though I know, she wants to pretend I don't. Even when I ask her questions about it, she just gives me these short answers."

"Maybe she's embarrassed," Hodgins shrugged.

"What is there to be embarrassed of?" She laughed, "She's sleeping with Seeley Booth, not The Hunchback of Notre Dame."

She gave him a sweet smile when she saw his facial expression fall slightly at the sound of his girlfriend commenting on the hotness of another man.

"Well I didn't say he was hotter than _you_," she informed him.

"Good save," Hodgins let a smile onto his lips, "and I don't mean embarrassed of Booth necessarily. I mean embarrassed because we've all been teasing her about how it's so obvious that she wants him for years, and now they're actually together."

"Hm, I think it's more than that," Angela shook her head, "she won't tell me why, but she made it very clear that nobody is aloud to know. So don't even tell her you know, but you won't tell anyone. Just keep it to yourself. As long as she thinks I'm the only one that knows, she won't go into Brennan freak out mode."

"Don't worry," Hodgins assured her, "this information goes into the part of my mind that never leaves the lips."

**(line break)**

Meanwhile, Brennan was in her office, once again, with a search engine pulled up on the screen of her computer, only this time, instead of searching for baseball terminologies, she was searching for 'common uses of figurative speech'.

"Bones, there you are," Booth's voice startled her as she looked up from her computer.

"Booth," she groaned, getting up from where she was sitting on her couch to shut the door behind him, "what are you doing here? Do you want them to suspect something?"

"Bones, you are way too paranoid," he laughed lightly as she tugged at the blinds on the little glass window so no one could see them, "they don't suspect anything."

"How do you know?" Brennan asked, locking her office door.

"Because, I know the Squint Squad. If they knew, it's be on the news by now. And do you not realize that by shutting the blinds and locking the door you're making it more suspicious than it would be if you just acted casual around them?"

"I don't think our relationship is really news worthy," she said, seriously, "and I feel as if I have to close the blinds because I never know if you're going to try and seduce me again. And the door is because people here never knock, so if you were, by any chance, trying to seduce me again, just about anyone could open the door."

"Trust me, nothing is ever happening in an office again. Not after last time."

Brennan was slightly disappointed, since she'd always had a fantasy about walking into his office in a black pencil skirt and button up blouse, and taking him right there in the office, on his desk, not before shoving his papers and little knick-knacks to the floor. She quickly pushed the fantasies from her head before she started to speak again.

"Last time was an unfortunate coincidence," she informed him, before continuing, "but regardless, you never answered my first question. Why are you here? You have the day off. I didn't think you'd really want to spend it here, considering you hate this place so much."

"I _do _hate this place," he made sure they were clear, when he heard the mocking tone in her voice, "if I do end up going to hell for all the people I killed as a sniper, the worst punishment God can give me is making me spend eternity in the Jeffersonian Institute. That would be the worst possible eternal punishment. But, putting that aside, I didn't come here to hang out. I just wanted to tell you that you have a date for the Jeffersonian's Valentine's Day," he searched for the word Zach used, "Banquet-thing."

"Who's my date?" Brennan asked, completely clueless, "I didn't get a date."

Booth shut his eyes and drew in a deep breath, counting to three in his head before opening them again and looking at her.

"Well I called Brad Pitt and asked him to be your date, but he couldn't make it, so you're going to just have to settle for me."

"I don't know who that is. Is he a friend of yours?" Brennan asked.

"Yes, Bones, he's a friend of mine," Booth waved it off, not feeling in the mood to explain to her who Brad Pitt was, "so smile and get excited, because I'm your date."

"You can't be my date," she said, seriously, "the FBI won't allow it."

"We're going as friends," he gave her a wink, "just friends."

"Considering some things we do together, I don't think 'friends' is the most accurate-"

Booth cut her off, putting his hand over her mouth.

"Look at me, Bones," he winked quite obviously, "friends."

"Oh!" She had a small smile of excitement on her face when she got what he was saying, "the winking indicates that you're lying and I'm supposed to be playing along. It could also be taken as a flirtatious message, but I can tell the difference between the types of winks."

"Yeah, that's great, Bones," he dismissed her explanation, "so what color dress are you wearing? Because I need to get a matching tie. And probably some matching flowers."

"Booth, I honestly don't even want to go at all. It's childish and unimportant," she said, honestly, "can't we just have a romantic Valentine's Day dinner with each other instead of spending it with all the people who work here, who you hate, just to remind you?"

"It's mandatory, Bones," he reminded her, "meaning, you have to go."

"They say it's 'mandatory' every year, and every year I don't go and they do nothing about it. They only say that it's mandatory to scare people into going, because, if there was no threat, then minimal people would show up."

Booth took a minute to look at her strangely.

"So let me get this straight," he started, "you're afraid to be an hour late to work, but you'll skip a mandatory work event? Don't you see the irony in that?"

"No. I don't."

"Point is, you're going," he held his hand up to stop her before she could object, "and don't say you're not because you are. I'm making you. End of discussion."

"Booth," she complained.

"No," he cut her off again, "pick out a dress. It's on Thursday, incase you forgot. Two days," he held up two fingers, "you have two days to prepare, so take your time."

"Why is it on a Thursday and not a Friday? That seems a little ill thought out."

"Because Valentine's Day happens to fall on a Thursday. I'm sorry that doesn't comply with the laws of Temperance Brennan, but I'll get on that. You know, I work with the government. If you want the entire calender changed, just say the word." The sarcasm in his voice was obvious.

"You know, I figured once we started sleeping together you'd be a little nicer to me," she said, a small smile playing at her lips.

"What would be the fun in that?" Booth asked, also smiling, "Besides, I've tried to be nice to you, and it's really not that easy. You can be very irritating, Bones. But I've known that from the moment we met, and accept you for the pain in the ass you are."

"And I accept you, Booth, for the goofy, irrational, bad tempered man that you are."

"Good to know we're on the same page here," he grabbed her face gently between his hands and pecked her lips, "I have to go. I'm picking Parker up from school early so we can go to the zoo."

"Have fun," she smiled, her cheeks slightly hot under his hands, "and tell Parker I said hello."

Booth smiled and kissed her lips one last time before unlocking the door to her office, and pulling it open, poking his head back into the office before he left for good.

"Oh, and Bones, Sully got a confession on the swamp victim case, so I'll be back to work tomorrow."

"Oh, can you congratulate him for me?" She raised her voice a little, since he was already out of the office at this point.

"No," he called back to her, his voice slightly far off.

"Booth!" She complained, but she knew he couldn't hear her, as she sat back on her couch, her arms crossed across her chest.


	15. Therapy With Sweets: Communication

**A/N: Okay, first of all, apologizing in advanced if there are any grammatical errors in this section, because it's late and I'm very tired, so my editing was probably not the best. xD Second, thank you to the people who reviewed/alerted/favorite(d) this story, even though there were only a few last chapter because I posted these two parts only about two hours apart. =]**

**Okay, so here's what's up. Incase you were confused as to why this isn't labeled 'Chapter Fifteen', it's because every now and again, I'm going to interrupt the storyline (and there is one, incase you weren't sure xD) to show a little Brennan/Booth/Sweets therapy, since A. I love Sweets, and B. it just kind of shows how Brennan and Booth are adjusting with going from 'friends' to 'lovers'. I love the therapy scenes in the show, so I figured I'd give it a shot. =]**

"Therapy With Sweets: Communication"

Sweets exchanged glances between the lovers as the three of them sat in their usual silence, Brennan and Booth sitting as close as they could get without being on the other's lap, Booth's arm around her shoulder and Brennan's hands in her lap. They felt the need to sit close in therapy now, since Sweets was the only person that they could act like they were together around. Sweets had been feeling awkward the last couple of sessions, feeling as if he were intruding on something when they'd sit so close with each other, occasionally turning to face each other, their noses pressing together slightly when they did. He felt like the third wheel on a date. Brennan had noticed how tense he was last session, and was starting to figure it out.

"So, uh, is there anything you two would like to talk about?" Sweets asked, smoothing down his suit jacket as he cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly in his chair.

"Actually I'd like to ask _you_ a question, Doctor Sweets," Brennan spoke up.

"Okay, go ahead, Doctor Brennan," Sweets encouraged her.

"Does this make you uncomfortable?" She gestured between her and Booth, who's hand was feeling around for hers now, grasping it when he found it.

Brennan shook her hand out of his, since she knew, even if Sweets said it didn't, that somewhere inside, he felt uncomfortable. Plus the fact that she was annoyed at him.

"Well, to be honest, Doctor Brennan, a little," he admitted sheepishly, "not because you two are doing anything inappropriate, because you're not. You're a couple. It's perfectly natural to want to hold each other's hands and sit close. But the reason I feel uncomfortable is because the two of you share such a strong bond, that I feel like I'm intruding in a way when I'm in the same room and you're having that kind of romantic contact."

"You're not," Brennan promised, "and we apologize if it makes you uncomfortable."

"We?" Booth spoke for the first time that session, "he's the one that wanted to know."

"Yes, Booth, we," Brennan looked at him sternly, "just because he knew we-"

Sweets put his hand up to stop her.

"No, Doctor Brennan, Agent Booth is right," he said, "I'm the one that was pushing for you two to come out with your feelings for each other. I understand that you love each other and want to be close. I like to be close with my girlfriend as well."

The three just nodded at each other as they fell silent again, the topic lasting a heated few minutes, then dying down quickly, as if someone clicked the off switch. Brennan was staring blankly at the wall, ignoring Booth's attempts at getting her to be more affectionate. She slapped his hand when she felt it on her thigh, her eyes not leaving the wall.

"Ow," Booth complained, a small chuckle escaping his lips, "a simple 'not now, Booth', would have done the trick."

Sweets leaned forward again, observing their behavior.

"Doctor Brennan, you seem like there's something bothering you," he observed.

"Something _is_ bothering me," she said, "but it isn't of any importance."

"Zone of Truth, Doctor Brennan," Sweets reminded her.

Since Booth knew what ever was bothering her had to be about him, he agreed with Sweets on the 'Zone of Truth' concept that day.

"Yeah, Bones, Zone of Truth," he added in, "out with it."

Brennan glanced at him with burning eyes and huffed, the words that had been itching so badly to come out the whole session, finally just flowing from her mouth like a river.

"Well yesterday Booth just barges into my office and tells me that we're going to the Jeffersonian Valentine's Day Banquet together. Doesn't ask me. _Tells_ me. And I really don't, nor did I ever, want to go, but he's forcing me. And I forgot to mention that he didn't even knock on my door. I could have been changing, and you just came into my office like it was yours. _And_ then when I asked you to congratulate Sully for me, you said no. You couldn't have just popped into the office and tell him I said 'congratulations'?"

"I took notice to how you went from addressing me to addressing Agent Booth, indicating that this is something you wanted to discuss with him, not me," Sweets said, exchanging glances between the two of them, before his eyes stopped on Booth, "Agent Booth? Would you like to respond? Maybe apologize and try to understand what you did that upset her so-"

Booth cut him off mid sentence, not to apologize, but to just argue back with her.

"The banquet is mandatory, Bones! I figured you'd at least have a better time if I went with you. So that wasn't me being controlling, that was me trying to help you out, which I know better then to do now. And don't even complain about the knocking, because you didn't knock when you came into my office and woke me up with your magic and arousing knuckles."

"I was rubbing your shoulders because you were tense, not because I was trying to get you 'in the mood'. You're honestly mad because my massage gave you an erection?" She asked, not even noticing Sweets' face turn bright red as he tried his best to keep the professional look.

"No, it's more because you're a tease," he pointed an accusing finger at her, "you get me all aroused in my office, and then you make me sleep in the same bed with you while you snuggle up all warm and close, breathing on the back of my neck all night, and _then_ you kiss me in the morning, and get undressed in front of me, but it still took me forever to get you to just sleep with me. You, Bones, are a natural tease, whether you notice it or not."

"_I'm_ a tease?" Her jaw dropped in shock, "we _still_ haven't made love! And you promised we would two weeks ago. So if anyone in this room is a tease, it's you."

"Oh, please two weeks is nothing. If I was a tease I'd-"

By this point, Sweets could barely make out who was saying what anymore, since they'd resorted to just bickering loudly over each other. The only way he got the two of them to stop was when he spoke loudly over them both.

"Doctor Brennan, Agent Booth, listen!" He snapped, grabbing their attention, "I know right now what the problems are between you two. The first one is that you rest too much importance on intimacy. Both of you. You should try to go a while without it. Second-"

Brennan was the one to cut him off.

"We went without it for two weeks," she told him, "but throughout the duration of that time period, Booth was teasing me the whole time. He was asking me to teach him about the human body, and talking about how he was going to handcuff me. And then, the best part, when things were getting a little, steamy, in the back of his SUV, and he was getting all sensual with me, kissing my neck and unbuttoning my top, he just stopped. Just, sat up and said goodnight."

"You really thought we were going to have sex in the back of my car, Bones?" Booth asked, a look of confusion washing over Brennan's face, since he'd actually said the word 'sex', "You're not just some girl I'm going to take in the backseat of my car. I was just kissing you. I thought you wanted me to."

"I did want you to kiss me," she assured him, "and I honestly feel touched that you wouldn't want to do it in such an improper place, but I thought we might, only because you were taking off my shirt. You were the one who said when clothing is being removed it is usually somewhat sexual. I don't believe that it would have meant less than any other time if we had sex in the back of your car. It doesn't matter where, Booth. It matters who. I wasn't asking to make love back there, just, intercourse. We all have needs and urges, and-"

Booth held his hand up to cut her off.

"Okay, I'm flattered, and touched, and glad that we sorted this out, but I think this conversation might be getting a little awkward for the head shrinking doctor here," he gestured towards Sweets, who had his head buried in his hands.

"What?" Sweets asked, picking up his head to exchanged glances between the two of them, "oh, no, go on. Don't mind me. This is a place where we speak our minds."

"What needed to be said was said," Brennan assured him, "what was the second reason?"

"For what?" Sweets asked, since he had completely lost his train of thought.

"For what our problem is?"

"Oh," his voice was slightly surprised before he continued, "right, um, second, you two need to do a better job at communicating with each other. Doctor Brennan, if Agent Booth does something that bothers you, like goes into your office without knocking, for example, then you need to tell him. Same for you, Agent Booth. And along with that, if, let's say, Doctor Brennan does tell Agent Booth that she doesn't want him going into her office without knocking, Agent Booth should respond appropriately by apologizing not doing it anymore. But that's not a free pass, Doctor Brennan, to start yelling and bickering with him. Tell him calmly when he bothers you."

"Booth does a lot of things that annoy me," Brennan shrugged, "a few days ago, he stayed at my house, and I came to realize that when he brushes his teeth, he leaves the toothpaste open, when he showers, he somehow manages to get half of the shower on my bathroom floor, and he even left the toilet seat up."

"Agent Booth? Response?" Sweets asked.

"Well it's not like we're married," he told her, "and I was in a rush that day. I had to go pick up Parker from Rebecca's, so needless to say, I wasn't the most tidy person in the world," he stopped, but was confused when he got looks from both of them, "and I'm sorry for, messing up your bathroom."

Brennan glanced up at him, a small smile playing at her lips before she pressed them gently to his, completely disregarding the fact that Sweets was still trying to run a therapy session. She went to pull back when she remembered they were still in therapy, but she didn't have time to get far before Booth's lips captured hers again. At this point, she was gone, her fingers knotted in his hair as his tongue grazed against her bottom lip gently.

"I guess your problems are settled now, so you two can, um, go," Sweets tried, swallowing nervously as he gestured towards the door, even though neither of them were listening, "Doctor Brennan? Agent Booth? You're free to go. Whenever you're ready."

They finally disconnected from each other, taking a second to look into the other's eyes before they looked back at Sweets.

"Thanks, Doc," Booth said, standing from the couch with Brennan, both acting as if it were completely normal and acceptable that they were just making out on his couch, "catch ya' next week."

"Yeah, next week," Sweets gave them a small wave.

Brennan gave him a small smile before the two of them left, leaving Sweets alone in his office, feeling as if he were just in charge of two toddlers. One second, they're fighting, and the next second, they're practically 'getting it on' on his couch.

"Dear God, what did I get myself into?" He whispered to himself, once both Brennan and Booth were gone.


	16. That's What Friends Are For

**A/N: Again, you're all going to want to punch me in the face, but thank you to everyone who has added this to their favorites, story alerts, and had reviewed. It means so much and is the reason I even get motivated to post more. =] And I apologize for the shortness of this chapter, but I figured this would be a good place to stop. =]**

Chapter Sixteen:

"That's What Friends Are For"

After they stepped out of Sweets' office, Booth glanced around to make sure no one was watching before he snuck a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Booth, that was very risky," she gave him a disapproving look.

"What's life without a little danger?" He asked, smiling charmingly at her, "Sometimes, you need to take a risk. You know, spice things up a little bit."

"No, I don't know," she said, eyeing him curiously.

Booth went to go explain, before he was cut off by the voice of another man behind him. Tim Sullivan. Sully and Booth shared a mutual disliking towards each other, which some people may consider a shame, since they used to be such good friends. But Booth never forgave Sully for starting to see Brennan, even when he knew the way Booth felt about her. Sully didn't dislike Booth, but, even though Booth never actually came out and said it, he could tell by the way he spoke to him, that they were no longer friends. They had sort of a silent rivalry. Neither of them actually ever outright said they didn't like the other, but the tension between the two was clear.

"Sully, hi," Brennan smiled, turning to the other FBI agent to see him smiling sweetly.

"Hey, Tempe, when you have a minute, I have to ask you something," he said.

"Right now is fine," she assured him, giving him a small nod.

Sully laughed lightly, glancing quickly at Booth before he looked back to Brennan.

"I kind of meant a minute alone," he chuckled.

Brennan looked up at Booth, telling him with her eyes to basically get lost.

"Oh, right, don't mind me, I'll be, in my office," he took a step backwards, turning to walk the right way when he almost lost his balance, being as he wasn't the most coordinated person in the world.

Once Brennan heard the door to his office close, she turned back to Sully.

"So," she started, tugging nervously at the bottom of her shirt, "what did you need to ask me? Now that Booth is gone, I mean."

"It's not about Booth," he assured her, before he asked, "I just kind of thought this was more of a thing to ask you in private. But, uh, would you care if I went to the Jeffersonian's Valentine's Day thing? Because I mean, I know that's your place, and if you don't want me there I understand, I'll just tell her I can't-"

"Sully, why would I care if you went to the banquet with someone else?" Brennan asked.

"I didn't think you would, but I wanted to ask because I didn't want to just like, show up there and make you think I was stalking you," he chuckled, "it's just, someone who works there asked me to be her date and she was so sweet and adorable, I had a hard time saying no."

"Even if I did care, it's not up to me. That would be like me asking you if I could bring someone I'm seeing into the FBI building. It's my work domain, not my house."

"But you _don't_ care, right?" Sully asked, wanting to be clear.

"No, I don't," Brennan shrugged, "I'm going with Booth anyway."

"With Booth?" Sully asked, "So are you two, like, together now?"

"What? No!" Brennan exclaimed, not even realizing how defensive she was sounding, "No, no, no. Booth and I are going as friends. We're partners. We're not aloud to see each other."

"Oh, okay," Sully's eyes were slightly skeptical looking as he watched how tense she got at the simple question, "so I guess I'll, see you there."

"Yeah, you'll more than likely see me there, depending on if we happen to run into each other. The place they're having it this year is pretty big, so the probability is a little less, but the chances of us seeing each other are still very likely."

"Oh, Tempe," Sully laughed softly and shook his head, before walking past her, touching her shoulder gently when he did.

Brennan was uncertain as to why he said 'Oh, Tempe' and waked away, but she quickly got over it, going back to Booth's office to say goodbye before she left and went back to the lab. When she had her hand on the doorknob, she remembered their whole argument about knocking, and took it off to knock instead. The door opened and she smiled when she saw Booth.

"Am I aloud to come out of my room now?" He asked, a slight hint of irritation in his voice when he spoke.

"Come on, Booth, don't be a baby," Brennan said, not letting him make her feel guilty for making him go away so she could talk to Sully, "you're trying to take me on a guilt vacation and it's not going to work."

"I'm not trying to take you on a guilt _trip_," he put extra emphasis on the last words to show her that she misused the phrase, "I'm just reminding you that you basically banished me from the hallway of _my_ place. My place, Bones. You have your lab, I have here."

"I wasn't _banishing_ you, you make me sound like some sort of dictator," she rolled her eyes at how dramatic he could be, "and I'm not having this argument with you. I don't want to fight with you, not the day before Valentine's Day. So I'm just going to leave."

Brennan turned on her heel and went to walk away before she heard his voice behind her.

"Bones, come on," Booth sighed, "you think I want to fight with you?"

"Sometimes I suspect it," she said.

Booth had to laugh a little.

"Well don't suspect, because I don't. I love you, Bones."

"I love you too, Booth," she replied, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

Booth chuckled at her 'risky' actions.

"Taking risks I see," he commented.

"Sometimes you need to take a risk," she mocked his words, before quickly leaving.

**(line break)**

Brennan was at Wong Fu's with Angela, since they'd agreed to stop by and grab some dinner once they got off of work. Angela was jabbering away about how excited she was for the Valentine's Day event, as Brennan poked at her food with her fork

"Bren?" Angela asked, when she noticed that Brennan wasn't paying attention.

"Hm?" Brennan asked, looking up to her, "Oh, sorry. Go on, Ange."

"Sweetie, something is bothering you," she concluded.

"Bothering is not really the best word to describe it," Brennan said, "nothing is really bothering me, I'm just a little nervous about this banquet. You know big social gatherings have never really been my strong suit. I know that I'm socially awkward, and I just don't want to say the wrong thing, or do the wrong thing. I just want this night to go smoothly, but I'm starting to worry that it's not going to be as easy as it sounds."

"So you're afraid that you'll embarrass yourself in front of Booth?" Angela asked, arching her eyebrow in confusion.

"No, of course not," she said, shaking her head, "I've embarrassed myself in front of Booth plenty of times. It's not that. It's just, we were in therapy today, and we were talking about some things, and Sweets said 'I know what the problems between you two are'."

"And?" Angela asked, not following.

"Problems, Ange. We've been seeing each other for two weeks and we already have problems. That can't be healthy. There has to be something we're doing wrong, but I can't fathom what it is. I'm doing everything I usually do in a relationship."

"Sweetie, that might _be_ the problem."

"I don't know what that means."

"You said you're doing everything you'd normally do in a relationship. But maybe you should be doing something different. Booth isn't just some guy you like to hook up with. You and Booth have been friends for years. You've been through a lot together. You know more about each other than most people. Maybe you should just, be vulnerable."

"I don't know how to be vulnerable, Ange. I'm a strong, independent, woman."

"Don't be, Brennan. Just let him hug you. Let him hold your hand. Let him take care of you. Don't be the world famous anthropologist with a million doctorates and a dozen best selling books. Just be Temperance Brennan. And next time he tries to take you on a date, go. Don't stay in the lab until late and then just stop at the diner instead."

Brennan tried to study her eyes, listening to every word and nodding occasionally. Maybe Angela was right, but Brennan wasn't really sure how to do any of those things. She was never the type of girl to just roll over and let a man take care of her. She was never the type of girl to open up and just let a man feel her emotions. And she was defiantly not the type of girl who left her work behind to go on a romantic date.

"Angela, those things may be easy for you, but they aren't for me," she said, softly.

"Bren, if you try, they'll be easy," she promised.

"I do let Booth hug me," Brennan informed her, "we hugged a few times."

"A few times?" Angela had to laugh, "I don't mean just giving each other a quick pat on the back 'man hug'. I mean, a real hug. Let him wrap those strong, sexy, muscular arms around you and just, hold you. Melt into his arms while he runs his fingers through your hair. That kind of thing. Be romantic with him. He's not just your best friend anymore, Bren. 'Guy hugs' aren't going to cut it."

Brennan sighed as she pushed some food around on her plate, not making eye contact with her best friend sitting next to her, since she knew Angela was right. She did need to let Booth in. She needed to let him just hold her, and take care of her. Being stubborn, the way she always was, wasn't going to get their relationship anywhere.

"Sweetie, I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, I'm just trying to-"

"I know, Ange, you're just trying to help," Brennan cut her off.

"Are you mad?" Angela asked, biting her bottom lip nervously, since she honestly didn't mean to upset her.

"No," Brennan shook her head, taking a long pause before she spoke again, "thank you."

"For what?"

"For opening my eyes. For being honest with me."

"That's what friends are for."

Brennan reached into her wallet and took out the money for her meal, setting it on the bar before she stood up and tied her long coat around her waist.

"Leaving?" Angela asked.

"Yes," Brennan replied, "it's getting late, and I need to get a good night's rest."

"So you'll be ready to dance tomorrow?"

Brennan laughed lightly.

"You know I'm a terrible dancer."

"Come on, Bren. Put on your boogie shoes!"

"I don't know what that means."

"It's a song, by KC and the Sunshine Band."

"I don't know who that is."

"Just go, sweetie," Angela laughed, waving her off as Brennan pulled her coat tight around her shoulders and stepped out into the freezing February air.


	17. I Just Need Time, Booth

**A/N: Okay, I'm apologizing in advanced for any errors, because I wanted to get this chapter out before I have to go somewhere, so I didn't really have time to proof read it. Anyways, a quick thanks to everyone the people who've reviewed/alerted/added this to their favorites. I didn't get as many last chapter, but hey, beggars can't be choosers, and I'm still grateful to the people who did. =] **

**And a quick shout-out to the person who pointed out my reoccurring grammatical error (I'm so sorry, I'm terrible at remembering names): Thank you so, so, much for pointing that out. I honestly didn't even notice that, so I'm glad you helped out. =]**

Chapter Seventeen:

"I Just Need Time, Booth"

Brennan's brown hair fell to her shoulders in curls, as she tugged at the bottom of them, the light in her bedroom bringing out the red tint in her hair. She could feel her heart pounding rapidly in her chest, even though she wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because she could hear the incessant knocking on the front door, and she knew that meant it was almost time to go to this dreaded party.

_Booth is out there. He's waiting. He's expecting you to look perfect_, the voice in the back of her mind kept reminding her, only causing her pounding heart to beat faster.

Once she got her hair close enough to the way she was picturing it when she first started, she opened her bedroom door and walked out to the living room, pulling the front door gently open.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Bones," Booth smiled a charming grin at her, as he took the bouquet of flowers that was pressing against his chest and held them out to her, "and now you can never say I don't listen to you again, because I think I just proved you wrong."

Brennan took the flowers from his hand and smiled gratefully up at him.

"Booth, you know how I feel about gifts," she said softly.

She was about to ask what he meant with the listening comment, until she took a closer look at the flowers, the purple plastic making a loud crumpling sound when she shifted the large bundle of flowers into her left hand, so she could touch his face gently with her right.

"Daffodils and daisies," she smiled, as her fingers traced the line of his jaw, "you can be very charming when you want to be. How did you know my top two favorite flowers?"

"I have my ways, Bones," he smiled back at her, taking her hand off his face to press gentle kisses to the tips of her fingers, "and I know you don't like gifts, but I couldn't resist. Not only are flowers an incredibly romantic gesture, but I got to prove that I know things about you, and that I'm a constant surprise."

"I've known that for a long time, Booth," Brennan shivered when she felt his lips against her fingertips, but pulled her hand away, only to lean in and capture his lips with hers, her kiss soft and loving, as opposed to the usual urgency it showed.

When she pulled away, they kept their faces close together for a couple seconds, just feeling their breath caress the other's lips as Brennan let her eyes slip closed.

"And I'll even call you Temperance today," Booth offered, since he knew how much she hated the nickname he stuck her with on the first day they met.

"No," she said quickly, "don't call me Temperance."

She never wanted to admit it to him, but the nickname had grown on her.

"Why not?" He asked, knowing why, but just wanting her to say it.

"Because, it sounds strange coming out of your mouth. Like you're speaking gibberish or something. It's not Booth-y."

"You're a liar," he accused, closing the tiny gap between their lips for just a split second, to peck her on the lips, "tell me the real reason, or I walk out that door right now."

"Are you threatening me?" She asked, taking her turn to peck his lips.

"Maybe," he responded.

"You don't scare me."

He pulled back from her face a little bit, only to tease her, before she grabbed it gently between her hands and pulled it back close to hers, not letting him escape.

"Say it," he whispered against her lips.

Brennan let her eyes close once she was able to feel his breath on her lips again.

"I've grown accustom to you calling me Bones."

"And?"

Brennan paused, trying to think of a good way to word it.

"And, I like it."

"Like what?"

"It."

"Temperance..."

"Fine. I like being called Bones. But only by you."

Booth had a triumphant smirk on his face now.

"I knew it," he smiled, like he'd just won the ultimate prize, "I never thought I'd hear those words come out of your mouth. You're way too stubborn to admit something like that."

"You're a very persuasive man, Seeley Booth," she pecked his lips one last time, before pulling away and gesturing towards the flowers in her hand, "I need to put these in water before we leave."

"Take your time," he encouraged her, as she walked to the kitchen.

Brennan didn't even notice how much her hands were trembling until she reached under the sink and picked up the glass vase, fumbling with it and almost dropping it twice before she started to fill it up with water. She couldn't fathom why Booth was making her so nervous that night. Before then, she never felt nervous around him, not even the morning after the first time they declared their love for each other, which should have been one of the most nervous moments of her life, since she didn't know if he was going to wake up with regret. She watched as the vase filled up with water, but gasped when she felt Booth's arms wrap around her waist from behind, her heart feeling as if it were going to jump out of her chest.

"You scared me," she whispered, putting her hand over her heart as she shut the water off when the vase was a little more than halfway full, "don't sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry, Bones" Booth had to chuckle lightly as he kissed the top of her head.

Brennan went to squirm out of his grip, but then she remembered what Angela had told her the night prior. She'd basically told her to let Booth do whatever he wanted, which irked her in a way, but she knew she was probably right. Booth prided himself on being the alpha male. He wanted to hold her and take care of her. It was his nature.

"Mmm," Brennan giggled, inhaling the sweet scent of cologne as she placed the vase, which now contained the flowers, on the counter and leaned back into his arms, "you're so warm."

She trembled slightly when she felt the tips of his fingers tracing over her hips.

"You should stay with me tonight," Booth offered, placing a kiss on her temple, "you've still never stayed over at my place, and I don't want to sleep alone tonight."

Brennan shifted slightly in his grip so she could turn to face him, moving her fingers to run over his tie, which was the perfect shade of red to match her dress.

"Neither do I," she admitted, not looking up from the tie, "I've slept alone for too many years. That night you fell asleep in your office and I brought you home with me, it felt so good waking up in the morning with someone warm next to me. And not just anyone, but you."

"Bones," Booth smiled, "that was cute."

"Cute?" She asked, "I was aiming more towards deep."

"That too."

Brennan half smiled and ducked out of his grip to go get her clothes for work the next day and some clothes to sleep in. Flicking through the hangers in her closet, she settled on just a simple pencil skirt and button up blouse, which she folded and placed neatly in a bag. She picked a simple white tank top and sweat pants to sleep in, and put them in the bag as well, not being as neat with those, since they didn't wrinkle as easily.

"Come on, Bones, what are you doing in there? Packing for vacation?" Brennan heard Booth's voice call to her from the living room, "Chop, chop, we have a party to get to!"

Brennan made her way out of her bedroom with her bag and opened the front door without responding to his rhetorical question. When they got outside, she felt Booth grab the bag out of her hand and she huffed as he threw it over his shoulder.

"Booth, I'm perfectly capable of-" she cut herself off, Angela's words, once again, ringing in her head.

"Continue," he encouraged her, a small smirk on his face as he put her bag in the backseat before getting into the driver's side.

"Nothing," Brennan muttered, slipping into the passenger's seat.

She was really starting to hate this whole letting him do things for her thing. One thing Brennan never asked for was help. She was always trying to prove how even though she was a girl, and looked scrawny, she could do things for herself. Having people wait on her hand and foot was never what she wanted. If she couldn't do something herself, she figured it wasn't worth doing at all, except when it came to working with Booth of course. She couldn't arrest murderers herself, but she was content on letting Booth help her with that.

"You don't have to do simple tasks for me, Booth," she let him know, trying to make it look like she didn't mind if he helped her out, but he didn't have to if he didn't want to.

"I know, but I'm the guy, Bones, I'm supposed to do things for you," he reminded her.

"That's completely sexist. Just because I'm a girl I can't do things for myself?"

"I didn't say that! But it's common knowledge that in a relationship, the boyfriend is supposed to do things for the girl, like pulling her chair out for her at restaurants and opening the car door."

"Chivalry has been dead for quite some time. Women can do everything men do," Brennan said, knowing she sounded like a feminist, "and you know I hate labels like 'boyfriend'."

"So I'm not your boyfriend?" Booth asked, glancing at her curiously from the corner of his eye, as he kept his focus mainly on the road in front of him.

"I don't know," Brennan said, keeping her voice low, since she knew that could very possibly make him mad at her, "Labels are completely unnecessary. You're just Booth."

"So that's our relationship, Bones? Bones and Booth? Partners with benefits?"

Brennan wanted so badly to tell him that he was more than just an object of sexual desire to her, but she just couldn't bring herself to let her guard so far down, even with him. She knew she viewed Booth as more than her 'partner with benefits', but she feared that if she told him that, he would laugh, or not feel the same way. They'd told each other they loved one another, but Brennan wasn't sure if he felt it the way she did. If when she said 'I love you', he felt the same electricity through his body as she did when he said it to her.

"I don't know, Booth," she finally answered, keeping her eyes locked on the scenery outside the window, so she didn't have to see if her words had hurt him, "I guess if I had to put a label on it, I'd say we're lovers."

"Lovers? So this is just sex to you?"

"Booth, please," she pleaded, not wanting to argue with him, as she broke her stare from the road to look at him with begging eyes, "I didn't mean it like that, I just meant, we love each other, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to put a monogamous label on it."

"So you're still sleeping with other guys?" He asked, feeling as if she'd just dropped a huge weight on his shoulders when he heard the words come out of her mouth.

"No, of course not," she shook her head, "I'm just, scared."

"Of what?" He asked, "I'm not going to hurt you, Temperance."

Booth didn't want to pressure her into a relationship, but he couldn't stand the thought that she thought he was going to hurt her. She'd been hurt so many times, and he knew that was why she had a hard time trusting him. But he wanted so badly for her to see that he wasn't like the other men in her life. He'd never abandon her, or break her heart.

"I know," she said honestly, since somewhere inside, she knew Booth would never do that to her, "I know, but," she paused for a moment, "I just need time, Booth. That's all I ask. I just need time before I put a label on what we are. Give it a few more weeks."

"Fair enough," he said quietly, keeping his eyes on the road, as they both stayed silent for the rest of the ride.

Brennan looked out the window, occasionally glancing over to Booth. She knew she'd hurt his feelings when she said they were lovers, but she honestly didn't mean it like he thought she did. But there was no changing it now. As usual, her social awkwardness ruined another peaceful moment, and she wanted nothing more than for that night to just end there.


	18. I Messed Up, Ange

**A/N: Wow, I got a lot of reviews last chapter. =D (well, for me, at least) xD. Let's aim higher on this chapter. Am I pressing my luck? xD Thank you to everyone who reviewed and alerted and added this to their favorites, even though that is probably burned into your minds by now. **

**Just a little pinch of drama. Nothing severe or devistating, but I was in a drama mood for some reason. Don't hate me though. You'll love me again in a couple chapters. =]**

Chapter Eighteen:

"I Messed Up, Ange"

"Booth, you're mad at me," Brennan observed, sticking her fork into her salad as she popped some into her mouth, not making eye contact with the man sitting next to her.

"Did you just come to a conclusion without hard evidence? That isn't like you."

"I'm serious, Booth."

"So am I."

Brennan sighed as she set her fork down, glad that everyone was too focused on whatever they were doing around them to notice the loud clinking sound it made when it touched the plate. She reached over and touched his arm gently, expecting him to either put his hand over hers, or shrug her off, surprised when he did neither. He just looked at her, like they were partners. Friends. Was this all part of his act so no one suspected them? Or was he still mad about the 'lovers' thing?

"It's not a conclusion," she finally said, after what seemed like a long drawn out silence between them, only the music and white noise of chattering audible in the background, "you've barely spoken a word since we got here, to me at least. And now you're doing that."

"Doing what, Bones? I'm not doing anything."

"You're giving me that look!" She accused, "You're looking at me like we're back to cube one. Like we're friends. Like we're _nothing_ to each other."

She practically hissed the words, hating the way they tasted on her tongue when she was talking about Booth. Never, did she want to refer to Booth as her friend, even before they were seeing each other. And saying that they weren't anything brought a sharp pain to her chest. Her worst fear with this whole dysfunctional relationship was having to say those words. That they were nothing to each other. Booth didn't even bother to correct her misuse of the phrase 'square one' before he spoke.

"We aren't," he said, his eyes having a plastic innocence to them, his words stabbing at her heart like a knife, "you said it yourself, Temperance. You're just Brennan and I'm just Booth. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Booth, I didn't mean it like that," her voice was pained, "you know that I'm not the best at wording things. I didn't mean that you mean nothing to me. I simply meant that I didn't want to put a label on what we are. Come on. You know how I feel about monogamous relationships."

"I know, Temperance. You just want to keep your options open."

"Booth," her voice was pleading, "please."

"Please what, Temperance?" His voice finally had some emotion behind it, as he looked into her eyes, his seeming to penetrate hers, "Smile and pretend none of what happened in the car actually happened? Because I can't do that. I know you've been hurt in the past, but I'm not Michael, or Sully, or you old internet boyfriend What's-His-Face. I thought you knew that, but apparently you think I'm just like the rest of them."

"I don't think you're like the rest of them, I know you're different, and I love you, but I just need time. With Michael and Sully, I rushed into the labeling and monogamy, and you see where those ended up. I want this to be different, Booth. Don't you see that?"

Booth was about to respond, but stopped himself when he saw someone standing over them out of the corner of his eye. When he turned to look fully at the person, it was Angela, her hands placed on her hips and a stern, look on her face.

"Are you two fighting again?" She asked, a playful smile on her face.

Her smile dropped completely when Brennan unexpectedly pushed her chair out, stood up, and made her way quickly through the crowd, not before Angela caught a glimpse of the tears spilling down her cheeks. Angela looked from Booth, to the crown where Brennan was no longer visible, then back to Booth.

"Did I say something?" Angela asked, her face painted with shock and confusion.

"No," Booth assured her.

"Well aren't you going to go get her?" Angela asked, placing her hands back on her hips, "As her boyfriend, you're obligated to do things like that."

"I'm not her boyfriend, just ask her."

Angela huffed and shifted her weight to one hip.

"You're seriously going to make _me_ go get her?" Angela asked, trying her best to give him an intimidating look, even though it didn't seem to phase him, "you know, I'm starting to question why I pushed for the two of you. I didn't think I'd have to be the peacemaker."

Without waiting for a response, Angela pushed through the crowd, getting a few 'hey, Angela's as she did, ignoring them. She glanced around for Brennan, not seeing her anywhere, until she looked at the bathroom door. Angela was proud as she opened the door and saw Brennan, knowing her theory of how all crying girls run to the bathroom was just proven right once again.

"Sweetie," Angela sighed, as she walked over to Brennan, who was leaning against the sink, her cheeks streaked with tears, and pulled her into a comforting hug.

Brennan leaned her head against her friend's shoulder, sniffling as she did. She would normally hate looking so weak, but she didn't really mind around Angela, since Angela had seen her at her worst, and vice versa. After a few seconds, Brennan pulled back and wiped the little smudge of mascara away from under her eye.

"Okay, I wasn't going to ask, but it's eating away at me inside," Angela sighed, "what happened, Bren? You and Booth were doing your usual bickering, I come over, and all of a sudden you're in hysterics and running for the hills."

"I was actually running for the bathroom-"

Angela cut her off before she could continue.

"It's just an expression," she pointed an accusing finger at her, "you're trying to change the subject and it's not going to happen. So I suggest you start explaining."

"Okay, Ange, what you saw wasn't just the normal bickering between the two of us. We kind of had a, misunderstanding, in the car."

"Go on."

Brennan sighed. She was hoping that would have been enough to satisfy her.

"To shorten a long story, Booth said something about him being my boyfriend and I told him that I didn't feel comfortable putting labels on our relationship. So he asked what we were and I said lovers."

Angela sighed, and pressed her palm to her forehead.

"Oh, Brennan."

"But I didn't mean it in the way you're thinking. I didn't mean we're just sex partners. I meant we love each other, and we established it between one another, but we weren't really a couple. He took it the way you did though, and he was mad at me. So I tried to talk to him about it once we got here, and the whole thing just kind of blew up. I know he's angry with me, and now our Valentine's Day is ruined. The first Valentine's Day I get to spend with Booth is completely ruined, and it's my fault for misusing that _stupid_ word! I never thought one word could be so destructive. It's just a word. Like everything else."

"Sweetie, don't panic," Angela said, putting her hand on her shoulder to try and calm her down, "as long as you didn't start on your Brennan-ish rant about monogamy, you might be able to fix this by the end of the night."

Brennan looked at her with apologetic eyes and bit her lip. Angela knew what she was telling her, even without word and let out an exasperated sigh, leaning her head in both of her hands now to cover her face as she groaned in frustration.

"_Brennan_! For a genius, you tend to make some pretty dumb choices."

"I messed up, Ange."

"Well that may be the understatement of the evening."

"You're not helping, Angela!"

"Sweetie, you told Booth that you didn't want to be monogamous."

"I don't see the problem in that."

Angela's eyes widened at how oblivious her friend was.

"That's basically telling him you want to sleep with other people."

"Well that's not the way I meant it. Booth can be very irrational sometimes."

"Sweetie, I'm sorry, but I have to side with Booth on this one."

"What? Why? Angela! You're my best friend, and you're taking his side when he is blowing things way out of proportion. I love Booth, and he should know that, but I'm scared of him. Booth scares me."

"You're scared, of Booth?" Angela's voice had notable shock in it.

"Yes," Brennan whispered, ashamedly, "because he gives me feelings that I never felt before. He makes my entire body shake when he whispers in my ear. My heart pounds erratically when he touches me, anywhere, even just on the cheek. And when he kisses me, my entire body gets hot, and I black out for a second. Angela, none of that ever happened to me before. Not with Michael, not with Sully, not with anyone. I feel, fragile, around Booth. And you're going to say 'that's love' and talk about how good it is, but it's not the feelings that scare me. It's the fact that if he has the power to give me these feelings, he also has the power to hurt me more than anyone in the world."

"Bren," Angela lowered her tone, once she came to understand why Brennan was so reluctant to give herself completely to the man she claimed she loved, "Booth wouldn't hurt you. He loves you, just as much as you love him. I've known it for years."

"I know he wouldn't hurt me on purpose," Brennan felt the tears start to brim in her eyes again, "but..." she paused, letting one lone tear roll down her cheek, "what we do is dangerous. If anything ever happened to him, I, wouldn't be able to live with it. What if he something happens when I'm there, and there's nothing I can do to save him? What if I just have to sit there and watch him die? I just can't do it, Angela. The risks are too high. In our field of work, you can't have too much of an emotional bond. I love Booth, too much. And _that_ scares me."

Angela hugged the now crying Brennan as she stroked her hair comfortingly and hushed her when she'd let out a couple of sobs. Even though she'd seen Brennan at her worst, she still wasn't used to it. Seeing her cry was rare, especially over a guy. But then again, Booth wasn't just a guy to her, and Brennan wasn't just a girl to him.

"Brennan, even if you don't notice it, you're pushing him away because you're scared. In order for your relationship to work, you need to let him in. All the way in. Trust him, sweetie."

"I do trust Booth. I want us to be a 'couple', but I'm just, afraid."

" Don't be afraid, Brennan. Right now, you're both teetering on the edge of a full blown relationship, and the only thing that's keeping you from going over that edge, is the guard you have up. Find a way to let him know you trust him. Because if you let him go, it'll be the biggest mistake of your life."

"I hate psychology," Brennan sniffed, wiping her eyes once she finished crying.

"Did you listen to anything I just said?" Angela asked, slightly annoyed now.

"Yes, Angela. Teetering. Guard. Trust. Mistake."

Brennan clutched her small purse in her hand and opened the bathroom door.

"Sweetie, where are you going?" Angela asked, eyeing her curiously.

"I'm going to make sure I don't make the biggest mistake of my life."

Angela smiled in encouragement as Brennan left the bathroom, shutting the door behind her before she made her way through the crowd to find Booth. Different scents of different people whacked her in the face, but none of them were Booth. For some reason, Brennan thought she knew where she could find him, as she pushed her way through people and made her way out the back exit, to an empty grassy area. In the area, off in the distance, stood only one person. By the structure of his body, and the way he was standing with his hands shoved in his pocket as he looked up at the black night sky, Brennan knew it was him.

"Booth!" She called out, as she unstrapped her heels and took them off so she could jog over to where he was.

She stopped next to him, touching his shoulder lightly with her fingertips.

"Booth?" She whispered, nothing around them but open grass, even though the music was still slightly audible from the country club where the banquet was being held.

"What, Bones?" He asked, turning his head slightly to look at her.

Brennan looked up at him with innocent eyes. His eyes weren't their usual warm and playful selves. They looked more hollow and disinterested. She longed to have her Booth back. The Booth who would have grabbed her hands and kissed her.

"Will you dance with me?" She asked softly.


	19. Gamble With Me, Bones

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, alerted, or added this to their favorites, for the hundredth time.A special thanks to Sophie Alexandra. I love every review I get, but that one made me feel pretty darn proud. =] And I'm very glad you all aren't mad at me for putting that little bump in their relationship. xD**

Chapter Nineteen:

"Gamble With Me, Bones"

Without using words to respond, Booth took her right hand gently and started to walk with her back to the country club. Brennan was a little confused, wondering if he was going to dance with her, or just lead her around to the front so he could drive her home and resume being mad at her. Her questioning mind was put at rest when he lead her out to the dance floor, where people had their heads against the chest of their boyfriends and girlfriends and were rocking slowly to the pace of the music. They made it inside in time just for 'I'll Be' to start playing. Booth took Brennan's right hand gently and pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist as he rested his hands in their appropriate slow dancing positions. Brennan was a little surprised when he pulled her close, but she quickly adjusted, doing the same.

"Booth?" Brennan whispered.

Even though the music was loud, her mouth was so close to his ear that she could still whisper and have her own soft conversation with him. That was, until he moved one of his hands to press a finger to his lips, a soft 'shh' filling her ears as she tried her best to sway at his pace. He seemed like such a natural at slow dancing, which made her feel twice as awkward, as she stared down at her feet.

"I got you," he whispered to her, having to chuckle lightly when he saw her watching her feet to make sure she didn't stumble or step on him, "you're fine. Stop watching your feet."

"You having your arms around my-"

Booth pressed his finger back to her lips when she started to speak again.

"Bones, shush."

"Why are you allowed to talk and I'm not?" She asked softly.

"You are allowed to talk," he promised her, "but you were about to spout out some kind of scientific fact, so I stopped you while you were ahead. Just, move, Bones. It's easy."

"I wasn't going to say anything scientific," she swore, peeking up at him from where her head was, on his shoulder, "I was just going to say the fact that you have your arms around my waist holds no significance when it comes to me stepping on you or someone else."

"And I'm saying you won't because I'm guiding you," he laughed softly, "now no more conversation. Just dance. You talk too much."

Brennan chose not to respond, since she knew if she did, she'd just get another finger pressed to her lips. She was itching to ask him if he was still mad at her, but he'd instructed her not to talk, so she wasn't going to press her luck, as she just swayed with him to the soft tune of the music. Brennan let her eyes slip shut about halfway through the song, just inhaling his scent, feeling his warm body pressed against hers, his ever present 'Cocky' belt buckle digging into the material of her dress, enabling her to feel it.

"I loathe that belt buckle," she whispered, surprised when he didn't hush her.

Maybe he was as lost in her as she was in him.

"You _love_ my belt buckle," he told, rather than asked, her, "it's Booth-y."

"It is Booth-y, but it's digging into my flesh."

"Sorry," Booth laughed lightly, shifting their positions slightly so the belt buckle wasn't pressed against her as hard as it was in the minutes prior, "he has a mind of his own."

"There is no possible way your belt buckle could have a gender. It neither has-"

Brennan wasn't surprised when he used his whole hand to cover her mouth that time.

"No science," he reminded her.

"That's not science, it's common s-"

"Bones," he complained, "enough."

"Sorry," she kept her voice at the whispering tone they'd been using throughout their dancing, burying her face back in his shoulder.

They swayed together in silence for only a short time, before Brennan spoke again.

"Booth?"

"Bones, this better not have anything to do with my belt buckle."

"It doesn't."

"Or science."

"It doesn't."

"Or dead bodies."

"Booth..."

"Fine, fine. Ask."

"It's not a question, but an explanation."

"Bones, this is sounding squinty already."

"It's not, I swear."

"Continue then."

Brennan paused, drawing in a deep breath before she started.

"I didn't mean what I said before, about the monogamous relationship."

"I know."

"I just-" she paused when his words processed, "wait, what?"

"I know, Bones," he said, softly, "just forget about it, okay?"

"Why are you so willing to let this go?" She questioned him, knowing there was more to it than he was letting on.

"Because I just, don't want to talk about it," Brennan could hear the pain in his voice as he spoke, and she felt her throat start to ache with the cry she wouldn't let free.

After she noticed how solemn his voice sounded on that last statement, her mind ran through the entire time they'd been dancing, realizing he'd had the same pained tone in his voice the entire time they'd been speaking to one another. He seemed different to her, but she didn't realize, at first, that it was because even when he was making very Booth like comments, he sounded like something was bothering him.

"Booth," she felt her throat get that achy feeling it got whenever she was about to cry, but she held back the tears, "I know you don't want to talk about it, but I really need to explain."

"Bones, please, just drop it," he begged.

"No. I'm not going to just let you win on this one. Not until you tell me why you all of the sudden just want to let this whole big fiasco go without even discussing it."

"I'm willing to let it go because I fell in love with Temperance Brennan," he said, knowing that when she said she wasn't going to let it go, she meant it.

"I don't know what that means," she glanced up at him again, her eyes confused.

"I knew what I was getting myself into when I fell in love with you. I knew, if we ever got together, that we'd have to keep our relationship a secret, so we could stay partners. I knew how many times you'd been hurt, and by who. I knew how you felt about being in a committed relationship. But I chose to give it a shot anyway. I can't change who you are and how you feel about certain things, Bones, and it was stupid of me to even consider, for a second, that I could."

Brennan shook her head, a tear escaping, only to be quickly wiped away by the side of Booth's hand off her cheek.

"I-I want to be with you," she stuttered.

"Bones, you don't have to-"

It was Brennan who hushed him now, by putting her hand over his mouth.

"I want a monogamous relationship, with you. When Angela and I were talking, I told her everything that I was too afraid to tell you. Booth, it's not that I don't love you, it's that I love you too much. I've never felt this way before, and it's scary. Because you have the power to make me or break me, and I'm not used to someone else having so much influence over whether I'm happy or not. You have Parker, and had Rebecca. I've never had that before. I've never been so vulnerable before. I didn't want a relationship with you because I knew I'd be in too deep, and couldn't risk that kind of pain again. I've," she paused when she felt her eyes brim with tears, "so many people have hurt me. It's hard for me to trust anymore."

Booth was looking at her hesitantly while she spoke, holding his breath in anticipation to what she was going to say, but when she was finished, he was able to relax again.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Bones," he whispered, touching her face gently, "I would never put you through that again."

"You won't hurt me on purpose," she concurred, "but, what if you got hurt on the job? What if, you were dying, and there was no way I could save you? Booth, I can't get attached. I can't. Because everything I love gets taken away from me."

"Nothing is going to take me away from you, Bones," he promised, "loving someone is worth it, even if they die."

"I don't know if I'd be able to handle it," she whispered, "I'm not as strong as you."

"Take the chance," his voice was soft, "gamble with me, Bones. You're the strongest person I know. You'd be able to handle it."

"Booth, you don't understand..."

"I do understand," he leaned close, but made sure it was discreet enough that nobody thought anything of it, "give this a chance. Let me prove you wrong, just this once. Let me prove to you that commitment is what's best. I won't let you down, Bones. I can promise you that."

Brennan reached up and touched his face gently, tracing her fingertips over the line of his jaw as she looked up into his eyes.

"I really, really, want to kiss you," she whispered.

"Who's stopping you?"

Brennan shook her head.

"Not here."

She unwrapped her arms from around him and took his hand, leading him off the dance floor and towards the back exit once again, where the empty grass area was. Booth followed her lead, just letting her take control for the moment, as she lead him around the side of the building, just incase anyone else decided to walk out the back exit and caught them. Brennan pressed him gently against the brick wall of the country club, and leaned dangerous close to his lips.

"I love you so much, Booth," she whispered, her breath caressing his lips.

"I love you t-"

Booth was cut off when Brennan leaned into him and pressed their lips together. The kiss started out awkward, both of them trying to figure out whether they wanted it to be slow and romantic, or passionate and steamy. It was quiet outside, the only sounds audible were some crickets, the sound of their lips mingling, and the occasional gasp of breath each took when their lips separated for a split second. Brennan didn't hesitate to part her lips when he asked for entrance, their tongues not fighting for dominance in the kiss this time, but just gliding over one another, causing Brennan to moan gently in his mouth.

Booth wrapped his arms tight around her waist when he heard her moan, pulling her close to his body. Brennan took his jacket lapels to pull him up from where she had him against the wall, enabling her to wrap her arms around his neck and tangle her fingers into his hair.

Brennan let out a small whimper of protest when she felt his lips leave hers, but only moaned softly again when she felt his lips against the side of her neck. She moaned quietly, struggling for her breath as she stretched out her neck to give him access.

He only responded to her moan by nipping gently at the skin of her neck, causing her to involuntarily give a soft tug on his hair, eliciting a slight groan from his throat. The sensation of his five o' clock shadow scraping gently against the tender skin of her neck was one that she'd grown to love since she'd been with Booth. She drew in a shaking breath as she pressed her cheek to the top of his head, her breathing slightly erratic.

"Make love to me, Booth," she whispered in his ear.


	20. Prove Me Wrong

**A/N: Sincere thanks to anyone who's been reviewing and to anyone who added this to their alerts/favorites. Even though I don't normally respond to reviews, it doesn't mean I don't appreciate them greatly. I've gotten some reviews that just bring an honest smile to my face, and it's an awesome feeling. =]**

**Also, I might have to go out of state for a few days sometime this month, so I probably won't be able to update for a couple days some time in the future. But I'm not even sure if I'm going yet, so we'll see. Just a warning though, incase I do. =]**

Chapter Twenty:

"Prove Me Wrong"

Brennan let her eyes slip closed, just waiting for a response as her fingers twisted in his hair. She began to feel a little let down when he stopped kissing her neck, knowing that she may have pushed her luck just a little too much by making such a request.

"Bones," he sighed, his breath warm against her skin.

"Don't," Brennan hushed him, her eyes not opening as she kept her cheek pressed to his head, her breathing still slightly erratic, "don't say it like that," she let go of his hair and ran her fingers softly over the back of his neck, "I want to. I _need_ to. I need to know what it's like. You said you wanted to prove me wrong, so do it, Booth. Prove me wrong. Show me that monogamy is better than just having casual intercourse. Show me what making love really is."

Brennan picked her head up from his when she felt Booth shift underneath her, standing up straight again so he could look into her eyes. She bit the inside of her cheek in anxiety, begging with her eyes as opposed to words.

"Bones, you're just emotional right now. We don't have to do this. We can wait," his voice was soft as he took her face gently between his hands, "I love you, Temperance, but we don't have to rush into this. When we make love, I want it to be because we _really_ want to, not because we were just fighting and you're feeling overwhelmed."

"I do really want to," she promised, lowering her voice as she looked seriously into his eyes, "it's what I want. Please, Booth. I want you to know that I'm serious about this."

"We don't have to make love to prove that," he promised, "I know I have you."

Brennan leaned into his chest, wishing there was some way to get him to believe that this was what she really wanted, and she wasn't acting out of emotion. Temperance Brennan never acted out of emotion. She would have never suggested the idea unless she thought it over and came to a logical conclusion about it. Booth should have known that. He was the one who always told her sometimes she had to listen to her heart rather than her brain. Little did she know how much Booth was resisting the temptation. There was nothing he wanted more than to make love to her, but he thought if he did that night, he'd be taking advantage of her.

"I'll stop you if I change my mind," her eyes were pleading as she looked at him.

"Not tonight, Bones," he tried to let her down as gently as possible, pressing his forehead gently to hers.

Brennan sighed as she closed her eyes for only a second before opening them again.

"Seeley," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears, "I'm begging you."

"You're crying," he observed, wiping a tear as soon as it escaped from her eye.

"I'm crying out of frustration and decreased hope, not because you're making me cry."

"Why are you frustrated, Bones?"

"Because I want you to make love to me, and you won't."

Brennan sniffed, blinking back the remainder of tears that were in her eyes.

"It's not because I don't want to, it's because _you_ don't want to," Booth assured her.

"I think I've made it quite clear that I do."

"I never thought I'd say this, but you're not thinking, Bones."

She could feel his breath against her lips as she spoke, still able to taste him in her mouth from their kiss before, and it was driving her crazy. There was nothing she wanted more at that moment then for him to show her how much he loved her. If only he wasn't so stubborn. So set on protecting her, when she didn't need to be protected. She wanted to respond, but her body had other intentions, as she just leaned in and pressed her lips back to his. Booth could taste the desperation in her kiss, as he wrapped his arms back around her waist.

"Booth," she whispered when their lips separated, "take me home and make love to me," her heart was pounding in her chest as she spoke, since she could see the change in his eyes, knowing he was almost convinced, "please, Booth. It's all I'm asking from you."

Brennan felt her heart sink into her stomach when he leaned away from her, but only jumped a little with surprise when she felt his hand take hers, lacing their fingers together as he started to walk, and she followed his lead, not really sure what was going on.

"Where are we going?" She asked softly, not wanting to ruin the mood.

"Home," was all he whispered, giving her an assuring glance out of the corner of his eye.

Brennan's stomach tied into a nervous knot when she heard his words and saw the look in his eyes, her heart rate increasing slightly more than it already was. She knew, by the way he gave her that suggestive glance, exactly why they were going home.

**(line break)**

Brennan tugged nervously at the bottom of her dress, clutching onto Booth's left hand, his right hand occupied by his house keys as he unlocked the front door. When the door swung open, to reveal the familiar house, her stomach settled down a little bit. For some reason, just seeing that house that she'd been in so many times before made her feel like all of this was a little more real. Pushing the door closed behind her, Brennan flicked on the light in the living room, glancing around at the unusually silent house.

"Dammit," she mumbled, as she stepped out of her heels, "I left my bag in the car."

"Don't worry about it," Booth shrugged, taking off his dress shoes to reveal the crazy pair of socks for the day, which had stripes in a variety of colors, "I'll get it in the morning."

_The morning_. Brennan swallowed at the thought. _I guess he came to terms with the fact that I won't be needing my tank top and sweat pants to sleep in._

"Do you need water or something?" He asked, pulling her out of her dazed stare as she turned her head to look at him, "you've swallowed three times in the past minute."

Brennan shook her head, unable to get the words out at the moment.

"I'm fine," she finally managed, "perfect, actually."

Booth was looking at her with curious eyes, seeming to study her. Brennan could tell that they'd both been avoiding saying anything about it, since having it planned was proving to be slightly awkward. She began to wonder if maybe she should have just waited for it to be spontaneous, since that may have taken the anxiety down a little bit, but quickly pushed the thoughts from her head, knowing that this was what she wanted.

"Bones," Booth finally broke the silence, "we don't have to do this."

Brennan immediately shook her head, not wanting him to think that she was having any second thoughts, since she knew, if he even suspected that, she'd have to go get her bag from the car, and nothing would be happening that night.

"I want to," she whispered, her breath hitching when he leaned close to her, and she swallowed once again, "I...want to."

Booth took her face gently between his hands, his eyes studying every feature of hers, even though they were already memorized in his mind. His thumbs gently caressed her face, as the rest of his fingers held her head steady, as her eyes slipped closed at the feeling. She drew in a deep breath through her nose when he pressed a feather light kiss to her cheek.

"You're beautiful, Bones," he whispered, gently caressing her face.

Brennan squeezed her eyes closed, her heart pounding nervously in her chest as she inhaled his scent, making sure to keep breathing. She felt one of his hands move down to rest on the top of her chest, where she knew he could feel her heart pounding wildly against her skin.

"Relax," he whispered, attempting to calm her down from what seemed to be a half a panic attack, he pressed gentle kisses to her face, whispering to her between every kiss, "it's just me, Bones. Relax. I've got you. Don't be nervous. It's just me."

Brennan's body trembled as she clutched onto the front of his shirt, letting out a soft whimper as he spoke to her, feeling as if she were about to pass out. His words weren't helping very much, they seemed to actually be making her nerves increase a little bit. She wasn't sure why she was nervous. It wasn't the sex part, she knew that. So she knew it must have been the commitment and trust that came along with it. When Angela told her she had to give herself to him fully, this is how she had to do it. By letting him take complete control and make love to her, showing her why he thought making love was much better than 'crappy sex'.

"I'm nervous," she squeaked, as if that weren't obvious.

"I know," Booth chuckled lightly, the sound of his laugh calming her down a little, "don't be nervous, Bones. We've already slept together."

"This is different," she whispered, "you said it was."

"It is different," he concurred, "but it's still the same concept."

Brennan nodded, but her breathing stayed erratic.

"Why are you freaking out?" He asked, softly.

"Because I've never made love before," she said quietly, "and I'm scared, Booth. I'm giving myself to you, letting you have every part of me. I'm opening up to you and being vulnerable. I'm yours, and I'm so," she paused, her voice cracking, "scared."

"Bones, look at me," he instructed her in a whisper, as she let her eyes flutter open.

Booth could see the fear in her eyes when she looked at him.

"Look at me, Bones," he whispered, even though she already was, as he looked deeply and seriously into her eyes, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," her voice was barely audible, as her eyes stung with tears.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I promise," he pressed another light kiss to her cheek before looking back into her eyes, to make sure she understood how serious he was, "I'm would never do anything to hurt you. You have to trust me, Bones. You have to trust me. We can't make love the right way unless you trust me."

"I do," she whispered, swallowing the ache in her throat, "I trust you."

Brennan gasped lightly against his lips when they touched to hers, and she let go of the fabric of his shirt, her trembling hands moving up to his jacket lapels. When he felt her grab onto his jacket, Booth let go of her face so she could slip it off his shoulders. Once the black jacket hit the floor, he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her gently from the floor to let her wrap her legs around his waist the best she could in her dress, their lips never leaving each other through the process. Brennan had her legs wrapped around him to the best of her ability before he carried her towards his bedroom, tripping clumsily on the way there, but catching himself.

"Ow," he chuckled lightly, when he tripped, using a free hand to open the door.

Just the sound of his chuckle relaxed her a little more, reminding her that it really was just Booth. Cocky, playful, clumsy, Booth. The man she'd known for years.

Brennan unwrapped herself from his waist when they got into the bedroom, reaching behind her to push the door shut, her other hand loosening his tie. Booth unwrapped his arms from around her waist to help her with the tie, as her trembling hands started on the buttons of his shirt, fumbling over each one of them as she tried to open them the correct way. Giving up, she just pulled on his shirt, causing him to mumble something lightly against her mouth.

"Slow, Bones," he reminded her, moving her hands, which were attempting to just pull his shirt open.

"I want," she paused as she moved her hands back to his shirt, her breathing erratic from the mixture of nerves and lack of oxygen from the kiss, "to feel you."

Brennan tried to undo the buttons properly again, with her shaking hands, since she knew if she continued to pull he'd get annoyed with her lack of patients. Booth moved his hands to his shirt to help her, swiftly getting half the shirt undone before she even got two buttons open.

Brennan parted her lips when his tongue traced gently over her bottom lip, and didn't even struggle for dominance, since she'd already agreed that they were doing this his way.

After she finished the buttons on his shirt, she ran her fingers over his toned chest, moaning lightly into his mouth at the mixture of his warm chest under her hands and his tongue exploring her mouth.

She took the metal cross he wore around his neck and rubbed it between her index finger and thumb, the metal feeling ice cold against her warm fingers. Booth took her hand off the necklace gently, and moved it back to his chest, obviously liking the attention she was giving to his chest and torso better than the attention she was giving to his cross.

Brennan let out a small whimper of protest when his mouth left hers, but gasped lightly when he gently slid the thin strap of her dress down her shoulder. Her whole body was burning, the way it always did when she was with him, and his fingers felt like ice against her shoulders as she whimpered again at the feeling, shifting her eyes to watch his hands move her strap.

"Mmm, Booth," she whispered breathlessly, when he pressed his lips to her newly exposed shoulder, "Booth," the word was a bit more of a moan than it was before.

She wrapped her arms tightly around him, raking her fingernails over his shoulder blade when he left a small trail of kisses to her clavicle, causing him to groan slightly at the sensation.

"Booth," her voice was shaking as much as her body, her heart pounding against her chest as she tried to keep her breathing even, moving one hand to tangle up in his hair.

He nipped gently at the skin of her neck in response to her moans, before he moved to her second shoulder, repeating the same process as he did with the first. Brennan pressed her hand against his chest and pushed him back slightly, only so she could slip his shirt off his shoulders before she pulled him back against her, her hands traveling down his torso to his belt buckle.

"I hate this thing," she reminded him, in a low, quivering, voice, as she tapped the red metal of the belt buckle with her index finger, before starting to gently undo it.

Booth stopped kissing her as he just pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes looking down to watch as her shaky hands carefully undid his belt. The room was silent, except for the sounds of their ragged breathing and the metal of his belt clinking together when she pulled it open.

Brennan gasped when he claimed her lips again, his hands creeping up her back until they found the zipper on her dress. He pulled it down gently, able to hear it unzip before she slid the straps all the way down and let the dress fall to the floor.

"Help," Brennan whispered against his lips, as she attempted to undo the button and zipper of his pants.

Booth moved his hands down to meet hers, and do as she asked. His pants hit the floor much quicker than they would have, do to the team effort, as he stepped out of them and picked her up again, her legs wrapping around him with more ease this time around. Booth left a trail of steamy, open-mouthed kisses down her neck as he carried her to the bed, her moans right in his ear as she leaned her head against his, letting her eyes slip closed as he carried her.

She only realized he was letting her down when she felt her back touch the cold sheets of the bed. Brennan opened her eyes and looked up at him pleadingly, only to gasp again when he leaned over her and pressed soft kisses to her stomach, making his way back up to her lips as he climbed into bed with her.

Booth hovered over her now, as Brennan kept her eyes open to look into his. She tried to give off the sense that she was ready, and she still wanted to do this, as she ran her fingers over his five o' clock shadow and he leaned down to give her sternum a single soft kiss, causing her to dig her fingernails into the sensitive skin of his jaw.

"Ow, Bones," he laughed lightly, looking at her with his chocolate brown eyes again, a smile on his face.

Brennan smile back as she moved her hands, practically glowing, even though she was still nervous.

"Sorry," she giggled lightly, touching the place where she scratched his face gently with the palm of her hand.

Booth leaned down to kiss her cheek bone softly, causing her to tremble like a lost puppy.

"Are you still nervous?" He asked, his voice in a very quiet whisper.

"A little," she admitted, moving her trembling arms to wrap around his neck and pull his face back close to hers, her shaking fingers running over the back of his neck.

"You're not going to enjoy this if you're nervous," he told her.

"I want to do this, Booth."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she whispered, raking her fingernails gently over the back of his neck, "I trust you."

"We don't have to do this if you're not ready," he assured her, one last time.

Brennan looked up into his eyes seriously, taking a deep breath before responding.

"Make love to me, Seeley," was the only way she could respond, as she pulled his lips back to hers, helped him get off the remaining clothing, and pulled the covers over them, letting herself get lost in the passion and heat of the moment, and letting him make love to her through the night, eventually falling asleep in his arms once all was said and done.


	21. I'm So Far Beyond Okay

**A/N: Whoop whoop, we're in the twenties. =] Thank you to everyone who's been reviewing and to everyone who added to their favorites/alerts. It still makes me just as happy as it did when I first started writing. **

Chapter Twenty-One:

"I'm So Far Beyond Okay"

_Brennan was standing in the lab, but something was different about it. When she looked around, it wasn't buzzing with the noises of people speaking around her, and it wasn't bright and crowded. It was completely empty, only the bones of a murder victim laying on the table in front of her, clean and set in their places. She looked out the window to see it was dark outside._

"_Cam?" She asked, her voice echoing through the empty lab, "Angela? Zack? Hodgins?"_

_She glanced down at the bones in front of her again, a puzzled look washing over her face when she saw how poorly it was assembled. The right tibia was where the left was supposed to be, and vice versa, along with other amateur mistakes._

"_Who the hell put this body together?" She called out, her voice bouncing off the walls of the empty and eerily quiet lab, "it's done very poorly."_

_Brennan shook her head as she just put each bone in a box, which was very conveniently sitting next to her, and started over, knowing she could do this the correct way. Before long, she was lost in her work, effortlessly putting each bone in it's correct place after examining them. When she went to set the fibula down in it's place, she felt something ice cold press against her cheek, causing her to jump and drop the bone to the floor._

"_What the," she touched her cheek, confused when nothing was there, but she could still feel the cold sensation, "you guys, this isn't funny. I'm trying to work."_

_She knew the team must have been playing some sort of prank on her, as she bent down and picked up the bone, ignoring the cold sensation on her cheek that just wasn't going away. It was only a few minutes later when a faint sound filled the lab, sounding as if it were underwater._

"_Hello?" She asked, glancing around her, after she set an arm bone down, "Stop trying to distract me. This is a murder victim. He deserves some respect."_

_Instead of the sound stopping, it only grew louder, and more obnoxious, as Brennan scratched in irritation at the cold spot on her cheek to try and warm it up, while simultaneously trying to drown out the loud, obnoxious, buzzing sound that was filling the lab._

The chill of the lab turned to the warmth of bed sheets and the warm, living, body next to her, and the buzzing sound became more clear, and ten times more annoying. When her mind was back in reality, she found herself snuggled closely against Booth's warm body, her head resting on his chest, and his cold, metal, cross pressed against her cheek. All the confusion of the dream was gone, when she noticed the reality of what was going on.

"Mmm," Brennan groaned in irritation, feeling Booth shift slightly from under her, but not enough that she wasn't close to him anymore, "turn it off."

She gently pushed his necklace to the side as she buried her face back in his chest, feeling the occasional shift of his body, the obnoxious buzzing of the alarm clock not stopping.

"Booth," she complained, her words muffled by his skin, "turn it off."

"I'm trying," he chuckled softly, his voice making it clear to her that he woke up from the alarm clock as well, and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep.

Booth reached around on the night stand for a minute before his hand found the alarm clock and turned it off, causing the room to grow silent once again. Brennan shifted positions so she could peek up at him from where her head was resting, a small smile on her lips.

"What are you grinning at, bed head?" Booth smiled back down at her as he ran his fingers through her lightly tangled hair.

"You," she giggled, reaching up to brush her hand against his neck.

_Crap_, she thought, mentally scolding herself, _Booth would be livid if he knew I was dreaming about dead bodies the night we finally made love. _

Brennan scooted up slightly so her head was closer to the top of his chest, as she tilted it upwards to look into his eyes innocently.

"Are you okay, Bones?" He asked softly, his fingers tracing gently over her spine, his fingers feeling cool against the warm skin of her back.

Brennan's eyes lit up a little, knowing he was referring to the night prior with his question on how she was. Her eyes had a passionate fire behind them as she looked at him, grateful that he was so considerate of her. She knew he was asking because she had been so nervous the night before.

"I'm so far beyond okay," she promised, nuzzling gently back into his chest.

"Good," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair.

"It felt like our first time," she admitted, looking up at him again as she ran her fingers absent mindedly over his torso, "it felt like _my_ first time. I never knew sex could be that," she searched for the appropriate word, "soft."

"Soft?" He asked.

Brennan nodded.

"Gentle. Usually it's a lot of grabbing and pulling and scratching, but that, it was just, gentle. No urgency. No lust. Just, love. I've never felt so safe during intercourse."

"So I'm taking it you're convinced?" Booth had a small smirk on his face now.

"Relish this moment where you proved me wrong, because it's the last time it will ever happen. Love making is much, much, better than sex. Although, if my first love making experience had been with someone else, it may not have been as satisfying."

"You can't just let me have my moment, can you?"

"Nope. I'm the intelligent one, you're the social one. That's how it's going to stay."

"Still the same pain in the ass Bones I've always known," Booth poked her side, causing her to twitch and slap him playfully in the chest, "glad to know that sharing my expertise with you hasn't turned you into some mushy-gushy hopeless romantic."

"Mushy-gushy?" She questioned his choice in words, "How old are you?"

"Depends on who's asking," he had a cocky smirk on his face.

"You're horrible," she shook her head, but couldn't help but smile.

"Am I going to have to get the handcuffs? Because I will."

"Are you trying to roleplay with me, Mr. Booth? Because correct me if I'm wrong, but I clearly remember you saying that roleplaying is equivalent to crappy sex."

"It's not roleplaying when you really are an FBI agent," he had the same cocky smirk he had a couple minutes prior, plastered onto his face.

Brennan's smile faded at the mention of work, as her fingers ran up and down his chest.

"I don't want to go to work," she complained.

"Neither do I," he agreed, "but what we do is important."

"I know," Brennan whispered, pressing her palm flat against his chest, "but it's nice to be laying here in bed with someone who's actually alive, as opposed to going to work and seeing the horrible things that people do to other people. These people who are murdered, they're human beings, just like me and you. They lay in bed with the person they love, just like this, leave the house, and never return. I can't imagine what that's like. One minute you're here living, breathing, and the next minute, you're not."

"But that's why our jobs are so important, Bones. Because we catch the people who kill other human beings and give the victims justice."

"Justice is barely meaningful once your life has already been taken. I wish we could just stop murders from happening in the first place. The life of someone innocent was already taken. Putting their murderer behind bars isn't going to give them the life they should have been living back. And it's not fair, that these monsters get to continue living, even if it is in jail."

"We do stop murders. We save the person's next victim. Doesn't that count for anything?"

Brennan shook her head as she scooted up to nuzzle gently into his neck.

"Murders are never going to stop, Booth," she whispered, "no matter what we do."

"I know, Bones," he whispered back, running his fingers comfortingly through her hair, "but we try, and that's all we can do."

Brennan sighed, comforted by his scent and the warm skin of his neck that was pressed up against her cheek, as she trailed her fingers over his chest, barely grazing his skin with the tips of her fingers when she did so.

"Don't you ever leave me, Seeley Booth," she whispered, the desperation in her voice apparent, as she buried her face back in his neck, "promise you'll never leave me."

"I couldn't," he said, honestly, "not even if I wanted to."

Brennan looked up at him, before touching the side of his face gently and guiding his lips down to hers, feeling her heart rate increase the moment their lips connected. There was nothing rushed in their kiss, as Booth tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, and Brennan caressed the side of his face gently with the tips of her fingers. For once, she wasn't thinking, just letting herself get carried away in the kiss, until that dreaded noise filled her ears. The sound of Booth's cell phone. Brennan leaned forward when he started to pull away, keeping their lips touching for as long as she could before he was completely pulled back, looking at her apologetically.

"Booth," he answered his phone, trying his best to contain himself when Brennan pressed a wet, open-mouthed, kiss to his chest, slowly making her way down to his stomach.

_I can't imagine this ending well_, he thought, as he tried his best to focus on the voice on the other end of the phone, but was putting more of his focus on Brennan and holding back his groans, _God, she's going to be the death of me. _

Brennan could feel his heart pounding when she kissed the center of his chest, taking a minute to just breathe teasingly on the wet mark. Booth pressed the phone to his shoulder to make sure the groan that escaped his lips wasn't audible to the man on the other line.

"God, Bones," he breathed, before pressing the phone back to his ear, "Yeah, yeah, I'm still here."

Brennan blushed and pulled the covers over her head as she kissed softly over his rib cage, able to feel his breathing speed up when she did. By the time he hung up the phone, her lips were at his naval, still kissing when she heard the phone flip shut.

"Bones," Booth said, in a hoarse voice, trying to grab her attention.

"I'm busy," she breathed against his skin.

_Focus, Booth, focus_, he mentally reminded himself, when he felt himself start to lose his train of thought, _Case. Work. Murder. Oh, God, that feels good._

"Bones, we have a case," he managed, causing her to stop.

Brennan's kisses to his toned stomach came to a screeching halt when the last five words she wanted to hear at that moment left his mouth. She scooted back up, popping her head back out from under the covers as she looked at him, able to see the blush that remained on his cheeks.

"You're serious," she muttered, when she studied the look on his face.

"Sorry," Booth tried, flashing her a half a smile.

_Damn_, he thought to himself, _now I need a cold shower. _

Brennan groaned in frustration as she rolled away from his body for the first time that morning, onto her back on the other side of the bed, as she covered her face with her hands. The sudden disconnection from his warm skin made the room feel cold to her, even under the covers.

"Come on, chin up, Bones," he chuckled, as he got out of bed and threw on something quickly just so he could go get her bag for her before he actually started to get ready for work, "you should be happy. You get to do your favorite thing in the world. Play with dead things."

"It's not funny," she mumbled, feeling honestly annoyed by the whole situation.

"My joke wasn't funny, or the fact that we were interrupted?" He asked.

"Both," Brennan assured him.

"Bones, quit being dramatic and get in the shower," he laughed softly at her.

Once he left the room, Brennan slipped out of bed and went into the bathroom, turning the water on in the shower and brushing her teeth while she let it warm up. She went to get into the shower, but instead, wrapped the towel around her and went back into his bedroom, sitting on the bed. When Booth came back inside with her bag, he gave her a curious look.

"What are you still doing in here? You're running up my water bill."

"I'm waiting for you," she gave him a small, seductive, smile.

"Bones," Booth chuckled, running his hands through his hair, "you're killing me."

Brennan stood up and made her way over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I'm not getting in the shower until you agree to join me," she told him, still smiling, "and if you're so worried about your water bill, then this is a valid solution. We'd be conserving water and keeping your water bill down. It's a genius plan."

"Proposed by a genius," he reminded her, a small smile playing at his lips.

Brennan nodded in agreement and moved one of her arms from around his neck so she could take his hand, pulling him towards the bathroom. Without any further resistance, he went with her, figuring no harm could come in spending some quality time with his Bones.

**(line break)**

Brennan was running a towel through her hair as she sat back on his bed, the bra and panties she packed already on as she tried to dry her hair as quick as possible. Booth was brushing his teeth, a towel still wrapped around his waist as he joined her back in his bedroom, smiling at her as much as he could with the toothbrush in his mouth.

"Don't smile while you're brushing your teeth," Brennan laughed lightly, "you're going to dribble toothpaste all over your freshly washed chest."

"Then we'd just have to re-wash it," he suggested, his words muffled by the toothbrush.

"I don't think we have time for that," she rolled her eyes playfully as he disappeared back into the bathroom to spit the toothpaste out and rinse.

Brennan stood up and went to his dresser, looking through his collection of ties as he finished with mouthwash in the bathroom. When she found one she liked, she pulled it out and laid it on the bed. She smiled when he came back into the room, and picked up the tie again, holding it out to him.

"I picked out your tie," she informed him, "wear this one."

"Why? What did you do to it?" was his immediate reaction.

"Nothing," she promised, "I just like it."

"I'm going to trust that if I put this on it won't like, turn me into a squint or something."

Ignoring him, Brennan dug around in her bag for a few minutes before she pulled out her clothes and tossed them lazily onto the bed, seeing that he already had his boxers and his shirt on, even though it was still unbuttoned. She quicky grabbed the front of his shirt before he could, and started to button it up.

"So now you pick out my clothes and dress me, mom?" He laughed softly.

"I'm being affectionate," she informed him, running her hands over the front of his shirt once it was buttoned up, "and if I was your mother, last night would have been illegal. Would you like it if your mother touched you the way I did when-"

"Okay, Bones, that's enough," he held up his hand to stop her, not sure why she always had to cross that line between joking and gross, "you know, it's sad that when dead bodies don't kill the mood, you still find a way to kill it yourself."

"It was a simple question," she said, not seeing anything wrong with what she said.

"It's the mental image," he informed her, pulling his pants on once she was finished with his shirt "just, don't, Bones. The only person I want touching me the way you did, is you."

"Good," she flashed him a satisfied smile as she slipped her shirt over her shoulders, going to start on the buttons before he mirrored her actions, by stopping her and doing them up himself, caressing her waist softly when he finished.

Brennan quickly slid her skirt on as Booth tied his tie with ease, slipping his jacket on a few seconds afterwards while she threw her hair up into a ponytail.

"Come on, chop, chop, lets go," he hurried her, clapping his hands at her as she slid her heels on.

Brennan resisted rubbing her tired eyes, since she just put make up on, and covered her mouth instead so she could yawn, as she attempted to keep up with him while he walked hastily outside and to the car.

"Booth?" She asked, as she opened the passenger side door to his SUV.

"Mhm?" he responded, putting the key in the ignition as the car purred to life.

"Can we stop and get coffee on the way to the crime scene?"

"Sure, Bones. I don't think the dead guy will mind. And by the way, try not to glow so much when you get to the lab."

"Glow?" She questioned.

"Yeah, glow," he responded, "you have that kind of sexual afterglow."

"I don't know what that means."

"In simple terms, it's obvious that you had sex last night. And not just sex. _Great_ sex."

"What are you Angela now? You only think you see a 'glow' because you're aware that I had great sex last night."

"It was pretty great, wasn't it?" Booth had a cocky smile back on his face as he drove

"Yes, it was," Brennan mumbled, before turning to watch the scenery pass by from her window.


	22. Talk Dirty To Me

**A/N: So, you lucky ducks get two chapters tonight, since I actually finished writting chapter twenty one this afternoon and just didn't get to edit and post until later. Anyways, apologizing in advanced again for any errors, since it's very late, and I'm kind of just skim-editing. And, as always, thanks for the reviews. =D Lovin' all you guys who review frequently. **

Chapter Twenty-Two:

"Talk Dirty To Me"

"The victim is male, middle aged, about thirty five to forty years, Caucasian," Brennan informed the team of the studies she made at the crime scene, as she pulled her lab coat over her shoulders and swiped her card to get on the forensic platform, coffee in hand, letting everyone catch a glimpse of her pencil skirt and white blouse before she put her lab coat on, "did I do something interesting?"

Brennan looked around at her co-workers, who seemed to be looking at her curiously as she took a sip of her coffee before setting it down on a table that wasn't occupied at the moment.

"No, sweetie, it's just," Angela started, "your outfit."

"My outfit?" Brennan asked, glancing down to make sure she didn't have her skirt on backwards or something, "What's wrong with my outfit? I think it would be quite alluring."

Hodgins, Zack, and Cam all turned back to the body that was on the autopsy table, pretending that they weren't listening to the conversation between Brennan and Angela, as Brennan pulled her gloves on, and Angela clutched the file she was holding to her chest.

"Nothing's wrong with it, it's very cute, yet sexy, it's just," she paused, "did you find today that the cops were hitting on you a little more than usual?"

"No," Brennan responded, "well one of them seemed interested, but he didn't act on it."

"Yeah, sweetie, that's because, at a crime scene, where people are wearing those ugly forensic suits, you probably, stood out a little."

"Is it because this skirt gives my legs definition? Because-"

Brennan let her voice trail off when Angela shook her head.

"I can tell by the way you're biting your lip that you're trying to spare my feelings, but I assure you, I'm good at taking constructive criticism."

"Well, you're kind of, dressed like a promiscuous secretary," Angela tried, "for a crime scene, I mean. Otherwise, it's adorable. But when you're climbing over branches and spider webs in the woods, looking for a rotting body, it's a little flashy."

Brennan tried her best to hide the fact that she was slightly offended. She wanted to tell her that she wasn't expecting to have a case, so she had to make do with the only outfit she had, but that would only raise more questions, and she'd wind up having to tell her about Booth. At the thought of Booth, her stomach tightened up into a knot, sending a tingling sensation through her body, as she tried to fathom why.

"Bren?" Angela asked, when she saw her eyes get that glazed over look, "are you mad at me for the promiscuous secretary comment? Because I'm aware that I probably could have worded that a little better."

"No, I'm not mad," Brennan promised, snapping back into reality, "I'm just, trying to focus on the murder that's all. My outfit seems a little irrelevant at the moment."

"Right, yeah, totally inappropriate of me to mention standing over, this."

"Him," Brennan corrected, "he's a male."

"Are you sure you're not mad? Because you're doing that thing again where you're nit-picking at every little thing I say," Angela informed her.

"I'm not mad, Angela, I'm just, trying to solve a murder," Brennan's voice was audibly frustrated, as she peered at the body on the table beneath her, "this body is still very fleshy. I'm not going to be of much help right now."

"That's okay, Doctor Brennan," Cam laughed lightly, "I won't fire you."

"Firing me for that would be completely irrational, Doctor Saroyan."

Cam just glanced at Angela who gave her the 'don't bother' look, as she turned her attention back to the body, and let the snippy Brennan go do as she pleased. Brennan picked her coffee up off the table hearing the swipe of a card as she did, but was still surprised when she went to turn around and wound up turning right into Booth's broad chest.

"Jeez, Bones, who's tracking _you_ down?" He laughed softly when he saw that she seemed to be in a rush to get off the forensics platform.

Brennan's heart fluttered when she smelled his cologne. That damn cologne. Just the smell of it was driving her crazy, and she didn't know what was wrong with her. All she could think about was Booth's warm lips against her tender neck, the soft skin of her stomach pressing against his toned abdomen, the way she was blushing as they made love, their moans of pleasure filled with love as opposed to the usual lust and urgency.

"Bones? You in there?" The loud snap of Booth's fingers put a stop to her vivid memories of the night prior.

Brennan didn't know how he was so calm. How he just worked with and talked to her as if everything was the same and they were still just partners. Maybe he didn't feel the same way she did when they made love. Maybe it wasn't as special to him as it was to her. She wondered if maybe it was a little _too_ special for her, since it seemed to be all she could think about.

"Who's tracking me down?" She repeated his question back to him, since she'd been slightly startled by the sound of him snapping his fingers at her, "nobody. I'm not running away, I was just about to go to my office, since the body is mostly flesh and that's Cam's area."

"Well I'd hate to keep you from the excitement of your office," he took a step to the side to let her through, seeing that she was in a rush to get out of there.

Brennan mumbled a small and barely audible thank you before she descended the stairs and made her way a little too quickly to her office, closing the door behind her. It was quiet on the forensics platform as the 'squints' exchanged confused glances with each other.

"It's Brennan, guys," Angela said, "you know how she gets."

Cam and Zack just nodded as Booth picked a tool up off the table and flipped it up in their air, catching it with ease as he looked at the dead body, his face scrunching up in disgust as he watched the two 'squints' poking and prodding at it with their tools.

"Are you guys even working on IDing him yet, or should I come back later?" He asked, the back of his mind wondering how they could just touch it with such ease.

"Oh, right," Angela seemed as if something just popped into her mind, "that's why I came up here in the first place. I got a hit on the dental records. Apparently this is Andrew Raymond. He was a forth grade teacher. Married with kids, the poor guy."

"Now, call me crazy, but I can't imagine many people wanting to kill a forth grade teacher who's married and has children. Not really a popular target."

"If you asked Hodgins, he would probably say he was part of some secret society and his life as a teacher and father is actually just a cover," Zack said, his voice flat.

"Which is why I didn't ask Hodgins," Booth mocked a surprised and accomplished smile, "see the way that works, Zack?"

"I was only providing my opinion, well Hodgins' opinion. I don't form opinions that aren't based off of evidence."

"That's great, Zack," Booth brushed off his statement as Angela handed him the file that consisted of information on Andrew Raymond, "thank you, Angela. Now I just have to see if I can pull Bones out of her office long enough to get her to come with me."

He disappeared off the forensics platform and made his way to Brennan's office, silently opening her door to see that she was sound asleep on her couch. At the moment, he was grateful, since the whole talk with Sweets about knocking had slipped his mind before he opened her door. Brennan snuggled up against the back of the couch comfortably as she slept. Booth picked up the blanket she kept on the back of her couch, and draped it gently over her, causing her to shift around slightly in her sleep, unaware that she only moved because of her dream.

_Brennan's nails dug into the back of Booth's neck as he lifted her from where she was sitting in his office chair. She wrapped her legs securely around his waist, her hands reaching out to shove papers sloppily off his desk, watching them flutter to the floor in a messy fashion to the floor as he growled against her mouth, and pressed her back to the cold, wooden desk.  
_"_You're picking those up before you leave," he warned her, as she just simply held up her arms in a silent signal.  
__Picking up on what she wanted, he slid her shirt over her head, her breathing erratic as she reached over and shoved his nameplate, which read 'Special Agent S. Booth', off his desk, listening to it thud against the floor.  
_"_Don't break my nameplate," his voice was raspy and seductive against her lips as he took her bottom lip between his teeth, causing her to arch into his chest with an erotic moan._

He was about to leave, before he heard her mumble something.

"Booth," she moaned in her sleep, the word barely audible.

Booth had a small smirk on his face as he walked quietly back over to her and kneeled in front of the couch where she was sleeping, touching her arm ever so gently with the tip of his index finger, running it gently up her arm as she shivered. Little did he know, Brennan was having one of the best dreams of her life, and was probably going to be highly disappointed when she woke up in her office, and realized none of it actually happened.

"_Booth!" her moan was much louder in her dream than it was in real life, as his fingers trailed lightly over her arm, letting go of her bottom lip as he pressed his lips to her neck.  
__Brennan pulled the front of his shirt open, seeing a few buttons pop off as she slid it halfway down his shoulders, unable to get it all the way off, since his weight was all on his arms as he hovered over her. _

Booth stifled a chuckle as he took her hand and placed it against his palm softly, getting a rise out of watching her react to whatever she thought was going on in her dream. Brennan moaned in her sleep once more, her fingernails digging into his palm as she scratched the skin of his hand gently.

_Brennan's moan was softer and filled with pleasure when he pressed his lips to the soft skin of her stomach, her nails digging into his back as his warm, wet, kisses trailed slowly up her stomach, which was heaving rhythmically, due to her heavy breathing.  
_"_Seeley. Oh, please, Seeley," she moaned, scratching her nails down his back._

Booth winced when her nails dug deep into his palm, leaning close to her ear when she moaned his name, completely entertained by teasing the poor, sleeping, scientist.

"Oh, baby, give it to me," he resisted the urge to laugh as he whispered in her ear.

_Brennan squeaked when he nipped at the skin of her stomach, his words making her stomach twist into that same nervous knot it was in that morning. Usually he didn't say things like that, but who was she to complain? She pulled on his belt buckle, yanking his pants down as he kissed her._

"Talk dirty to me, Tempe," he let out a slight chuckle in her ear.

_Brennan's eyes flickered down at him, confused as to why he chuckled, feeling like her chest was on fire as his lips made their way back up to her neck. She ran her fingers gently down his back at this point.  
_"_I want you," she purred into his ear, "take me, Seeley."_

Booth had to laugh at her unconscious words.

"Alright, Bones, wake up," he chuckled, shaking her shoulder gently as her fingers caressed the palm of his hand, "I'm starting to feel bad about teasing you."

_A look of confusion washed over her face, as she looked down at Booth, who was no longer kissing her neck, and was shaking her shoulder now, but was still speaking to her in a sultry voice.  
_"_Bones, wake up. Bones! C'mon, Bones."_

Brennan's eyes fluttered open as she rubbed them with the back of her free hand, seeing that her other hand was in Booth's. She covered her mouth with her arm to yawn, feeling a deep disappointment in her chest when she realized it was all a dream.

"Hey, look who's up," he chuckled, playing innocent and pretending he didn't know anything about what she was dreaming about.

"Well you're the one that kept me up all night last night," she blushed slightly, as she yawned again, looking down at the hand she was holding, to see the red marks, "Booth, are you okay? What happened?"

"You did," he chuckled.

Brennan gave him a curious look.

"Is that some kind of pop culture reference that I'm not going to understand?"

Booth laughed as he moved her hand gently to show her that the marks were from someone's nails.

"Oh, Tempe, give it to me, baby. Talk dirty to me," he laughed, her face turning practically scarlet red when she realized what had happened.

"You're a jerk!" She complained, shoving his shoulder as her cheeks burned, feeling as if she were going to just break down and cry from embarrassment right there.

"I'm sorry, but I had to," he laughed, "I heard you moan my name, and I just figured I'd never get another opportunity like that."

Brennan sat up and shrugged the blanket that he set over her off her shoulders, feeling honestly annoyed that he would embarrass her like that, as she stood up and brushed her skirt off.

"Is there a reason you're here, or did you just come to make me look like a fool?"

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to come talk to the victim's wife with me, but when I saw you were sleeping, I figured you probably weren't up to it."

"Well I would have gone, but I'm not going now," she said, stubbornly.

"Come on, Bones, it was just a joke," he rolled his eyes.

"You humiliated me!"

"Big deal! No one's even here."

"Like you're not going to tell all the other cops about it! I know how cops work, Booth. Cops, for whatever reason, feel the need to exploit their sexual conquests to build up their masculine prowess. If the other cops heard this story, you'd be the alpha male."

"So let me get this straight. You weren't afraid I'd tell the guys when we slept together, but you're afraid I'm going to tell them about your little naughty dream?"

"Don't call it that! It makes it sound so, perverted."

"Whatever, Bones, that's not the point. The point is that I'm not going to tell anybody."

"You'd better not, Booth. I'm serious."

"I won't," he dragged out the word, rolling his eyes as he helped her up from the couch, "scout's honor."

"I don't know what that means."

"Of course you don't, Bones," he sighed, opening the door to her office as they went to his SUV to speak with the murder victim's wife.


	23. You Always Cross The Line

**A/N: I'm sorry I didn't get to update last night. My grandmother is visiting from out of state, and she dislocated her shoulder and had to go to the hospital. She's fine though, and she was able to come back to my dad's house that afternoon, but my family hung out at my dad's with them until late last night, so I didn't have time to write. But here's a new chapter now, so, yeah. =] **

**And, of course, thank you to everyone who reviewed/alerted/added to their favorites. =D**

Chapter Twenty-Three:

"You Always Cross The Line"

"I'm really liking the victim's wife right now," Booth informed Brennan, slipping his jacket off his shoulders and tossing it onto his bed before he loosened his tie.

"There is absolutely no evidence that points to anybody yet, how could you have possibly come to the conclusion that it was the victim's wife?" Brennan asked, setting the bag she'd carried into the house down, which consisted of a couple days worth of clothing, and opened it, taking out a spaghetti strapped tank top.

"Come on, Bones. The evidence is all right in front of you," he informed her, sliding his tie off before he started to unbutton his shirt, "Raymond was having an affair with the young, sexy, new principal in the school he worked in. He tells Mrs. Raymond that he's leaving her for the young, sexy, principal. She flies into a fit of rage, and kills him."

"We don't even know how he was killed yet. The murder weapon could very possibly be something that Mrs. Raymond doesn't even have access to," Brennan pointed out, unbuttoning her blouse and sliding it off her shoulders before slipping on her tank top, "I think you're just going with your 'magic gut' on this one, Booth. Which, to remind you, hasn't helped us much in the past."

Booth's jaw dropped when the words came out of her mouth, sliding his shirt off his shoulders and pulling on a t-shirt quickly before he spoke to her again.

"What do you mean my gut hasn't helped us?" He asked, "there have been plenty of times where my gut was right, but I had to wait for you and your shiny machines to just tell me what I already knew. I'm telling you, it was the wife. What have I told you about jealousy?"

"That it's the oldest motive for murder in 'the book', although, I'm still not completely sure which book you're referring to," she answered, putting on her sweat pants under her skirt before she unzipped it and let it fall to the floor, before picking her dirty clothes up and putting them in a different zipper pocket of her bag.

"It's a hypothetical book," he informed her, swiftly undoing his 'Cocky' belt buckle before he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, "but yes. Nine times out of ten, when someone's murdered, it's because of jealousy. Nine times out of ten, Bones."

"That is not a proven statistic, Booth. You just made it up," she accused, running her fingers through her hair as she looked down at her sleeping clothes.

"All statistics might as well be made up," he tried to pass off his lie, as he pulled his work pants off and replaced them with sweat pants, "but that's not the point. The point is, it's a lot. And who else would want to kill some fourth grade teaching geek?"

"We haven't even gotten all the facts yet!" Brennan's tone was a bit more animated as she threw her hands up in frustration, "Innocent until proven guilty, Booth. That's the philosophy this country is supposed to live by."

"And I respect my country, Bones," he reminded her, "I'm not looking to lock this woman up, I'm just telling you what my gut is telling _me_, and what my gut is telling me is to focus on the wife."

"Well I'm disagreeing with you," she said, "we need the facts before we can focus on anything. I'm not going to accuse this woman of murder based on your gut."

"I didn't say we should-" Booth cut himself off, knowing this conversation was just going in circles, "you know what? Forget I said anything. This conversation ends here."

"Wait," Brennan said, quickly, "one more question."

"Shoot."

"Shoot what?"

"Bones, ask the question."

"Why is it that marriage is considered so sacred and holy, like it's the strongest bond two people can form, yet, if a married man or woman is murdered, the spouse is always the top suspect? That doesn't seem logical to me. Marriage is supposed to represent ever lasting love and an eternal bond that can withstand anything, so why would the spouse be the first person people suspect when a person is murdered? For better or worse, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part. Those words are supposed to mean love, monogamy, not hatred."

"Well, sometimes if you marry the wrong person, it won't work out the way it's supposed to," he said, mentally regretting it, since that would just give her another reason to be against monogamy, "now, that doesn't justify killing your spouse. Usually they'll just get divorced. But, when people have something that's not right in their mind, they can kill."

"Did you ever consider killing Rebecca when she wouldn't marry you?"

"Bones, please tell me that wasn't a serious question."

"I'm simply asking a question. You can be honest with me, Booth. I won't tell anyone."

"No, I never considered _killing _Rebecca."

He let out a long breath and rolled his eyes, questioning himself as to why he even gave that question a serious answer.

"Well don't act like it's so ludicrous. You've killed people before, Booth."

Booth's eyes turned ice cold as he shifted them to look at her.

"See that, Bones? You _always_ cross the line."

He left his bedroom, but Brennan followed close behind him, wishing there was a way she could rewind and stop herself from saying that. That was something she knew she needed to work on, thinking things over before she let them leave her mouth. And that was defiantly something that she should have kept in her mind, since she knew how touchy that particular subject was for him. Booth was never proud that he killed people, but he did it for his country, and Brennan always just assumed he understood that he did the right thing.

"Booth, I didn't mean it in a negative way, I was just simply stating a fact," she followed him to the couch, taking a seat next to him when he sat down.

Ignoring her, Booth turned on the television, flicking to the Flyers' game.

"You're ignoring me," Brennan observed, keeping her eyes on him, but occasionally glancing at the game, "you know, giving me the silent treatment won't work. I know you're upset with me for bringing up your past as a sniper, but I was just trying to prove my point. You didn't kill innocent people, you killed because that was your job. Granted, you still did take several lives, but it doesn't make anyone think any less of you, so-" she cut herself off when the volume of the game increased, drowning her voice out, "hey! I'm talking to you!"

"You're not talking to me, you're just trying to lecture me on how many people I've killed," he made sure she could hear him over the television, since it was quite loud now from him trying to drown her out, "I know I've killed people, Bones. I don't have to hear it from you."

"It's coming out wrong," she tried to yell over the television, getting highly frustrated at the combination of not being able to word things in a way that didn't sound offensive to him, and trying to shout over the volume of the television, "Booth! You're acting like a child."

Booth kept his eyes on the Flyers' game, pretending he couldn't hear her, even though every word she said was clear to him. He knew he was probably over reacting, but he didn't care at the moment. Both of them were on edge, since they were running on barely three hours of sleep. By the time the end of the work day came, both of them were snapping at everyone, regretting their decision to make love until five thirty in the morning the night prior. Brennan was thinking maybe she should have saved her love making request for a Friday, when they didn't have work the next day, but she would never say that to Booth, since he'd think she regretted it.

"I know you can hear me, Booth," she said sharply, reaching over his arm for the remote when he leaned away from her, keeping it out of her reach as she stretched over him, climbing into his lap for better access to where he was holding it over his head, "come on, Booth!"

Normally they both would have reacted to their position, Brennan straddling his lap on her knees, her face dangerously close to his, but they were both too annoyed with each other and too focused on the remote to even notice. Brennan finally snatched it out of his hand and lowered the volume to the point where it was barely audible anymore. The two of them seemed to take notice to Brennan's position once the incredibly loud volume of the TV was gone. They stared into the other's eyes skeptically as Brennan kept the remote clutched in her hand.

"Listen to me," her voice was lower, since the room was quiet now, and she was close up to his face anyway, "I love you, Seeley, but we-"

"Don't call me Seeley," he cut her off, before she pressed a finger to his lips.

"Let me finish," her eyes burned through his, "you should know that sometimes, when I say things, the words form together wrong and it sounds much worse than I meant it," his eyes told her silently that he was aware of this, "when I said that you've killed people before, I didn't mean that you're anything like the people we deal with. You save people, Booth."

"But I _have_ killed people, Bones."

"It doesn't matter," she gave his shoulder a shake with the hand that wasn't holding the remote, "you killed people to protect the rights of your country. You didn't murder people in cold blood because they did something you didn't like."

"You're the one that always says their reasons are 'irrelevant'," he used one of her favorite words to quote her, "what separates what I did and what they do? A life is a life."

"You feel remorse. You care," she poked him in the center of his chest, "and _that's_ the difference between you and them. You're not a murderer, Booth."

"And the slowest horse crosses the finish line. I know that, Bones. There's a difference between people who murder and people who kill, but that doesn't make the people who kill any less responsible for the death of another human being."

"You killed for a reason."

"That doesn't justify it, Temperance."

Brennan sighed deeply and took his face gently between her hands after she set the remote down on the coffee table, leaning forward slightly to press her forehead to his.

"When I asked about Rebecca," her voice was in a whisper now, "I wasn't trying to compare you to the disgusting animals who we get put in jail. It was just a question. Just an innocent question. I know you. And even though you think I'm a terrible judge of character, you have my approval. You're a good person, Seeley. You're selfless, and kind hearted, and courageous. And there aren't many people who possess all those qualities."

Before he could respond, Brennan brushed her lips gently against his, wanting to feel his lips against hers, but not wanting to fully kiss him yet, since she wasn't sure if he was still angry with her. Her breath was warm against Booth's lips when she brushed past them, causing a small gasp to escape his lips when her lips actually grazed his. When she leaned away after the quick brush of their lips, she looked into his eyes, as if silently asking for his approval. Without any further hesitation, Booth leaned up to capture her lips in a real kiss, hearing a small whimper in her throat when he took her by surprise. Her hands immediately moved to his face as her eyes slipped closed, the kiss slow paced and gentle. At times, Brennan forgot they were even kissing, since everything was so soft and angelic.

"I love you," she mumbled against his lips, sliding her hands down the side of his face to wrap around the back of his neck.

"I love you too," he told her back, without hesitation, as he disconnected their lips and pressed a soft kiss to the sensitive spot right behind her ear lobe.

Brennan buried her face in his shoulder as he left a small trail of kisses down the side of her neck, and moaned softly when he kissed her sensitive spot, despite the fact that she had been trying to hold it in. She dropped her hands from his neck as he teased the spot, moving them down to slide them up his shirt, raking her fingernails gently over his warm skin. Brennan was noticeably surprised when he shook his head at her actions and pulled away from her neck.

"Not tonight, Bones," he said softly, looking back into her eyes.

"Are you still-"

"No," Booth cut her off, "I'm not still mad. I'm just tired."

Brennan fixed her position so she was no longer straddling him, and was sitting next to him instead, her shoulder brushing against his from the closeness. Taking notice to the fact that she wanted to cuddle, Booth wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, letting her rest her head against his chest. Smiling, Brennan picked the remote back up and turned the volume back up to a normal volume, setting it back down before she gently pushed him back so they were laying together, even though the small couch made it slightly uncomfortable.

"Are the Flyers winning?" She asked, tracing her index finger over the tattoo on the inside of his forearm, which was visible in the current position of his arm.

"Yes, Bones," he laughed lightly, glancing over her shoulder to examine what she was doing with him arm, "the score is right on the screen."

"Right," she mumbled, slightly embarrassed, as she let her eyes slip closed.

Booth absent mindedly wrapped a lock of her hair around the index finger of his free hand, tucking it gently behind her ear after he unraveled it, and catching a glimpse of her closed eyes. Brennan stopped moving her fingers over his tattoo as she just took his hand in hers.

"Tired?" He asked, his voice in a whisper.

"Mhm," Brennan nodded lightly, lacing their fingers together.

"Do you want to go to bed?" He asked, "I can always see if the Flyers won in the morning."

"No," she mumbled, shaking her head as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"You sure?"

"Mhm."

Brennan nodded again, the sound of the television and the feeling of Booth's arms around her starting to fade out of focus when she began to drift off. Booth closed his eyes along with her now, keeping his arms wrapped tight around her waist, only awake a few minutes longer than her before he drifted off as well. He woke up on the couch, still curled up with Brennan as the sound of ESPN filled the room, glancing at the clock to see that they'd been asleep on the couch for about an hour and a half.

"Come on, Bones," he whispered in her ear, tapping her shoulder gently, "we fell asleep."

Brennan mumbled something inaudible as she snuggled closer to him.

"Bones," he laughed softly, "come on, lets go to bed."

Brennan's eyes fluttered halfway open as she yawned and rubbed them with the back of her hand, sitting up and off of Booth to let him stand and hold his hand out to help her up. Reluctantly, Brennan took his hand and let him help her to his bedroom, feeling like she was in a fog as they walked. When they reached his room, she climbed quickly under the covers, burying her face in the pillow, which smelled like Booth, and quickly fell back asleep. Booth joined her on the other side of the bed, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind as he pulled her up against his body, hearing a small, unconscious whimper slip from her lips. It only took a few seconds before he was asleep with her, sleeping a dreamless and deep sleep.


	24. I Do Not Feel Guilty

**A/N: I haven't been getting as many reviews, but hey, who am I to complain? So here is me, subtly begging for feedback. xD Special thanks to NCISaddict77. You never fail to leave a review on every chapter, and that's pretty cool of you. =]**

**And of course, still thanks to everyone who's alerted/added to their favorites/reviewed in the past. =]**

Chapter Twenty-Four:

"I Do Not Feel Guilty"

Late in the morning the next day, Brennan woke up under the warm covers of a bed that was growing quite familiar to her. Sometimes, in her sleep, she'd forget, and think that they were still just partners, but when she woke up with the sheets that smelled of his cologne and laundry detergent wrapped around her, she'd remember, and perk up a bit.

"Booth," she mumbled sleepily, reaching her hand across the bed to touch him.

Brennan pressed her hand down, expecting to feel his warm, toned, body underneath it, but instead, her hand touched to the cold sheets. At this point, she opened her eyes and looked beside her, seeing only an empty bed beside her. Sitting up and stretching, Brennan slipped out of bed and left the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. As soon as she stepped out into the hallway, the smell of coffee filled her nose, and she dragged her still half asleep self into the kitchen to get hers. When she turned the corner into the kitchen, the first thing she saw was Booth at the table, a newspaper in one hand and a half of a toasted bagel in the other.

"Morning," he said, his words muffled by the bite of bagel that was in his mouth as his eyes never left the newspaper, "coffee's in the pot, and the bagels are on the counter," the hand that was holding the bagel gestured towards each as he informed her.

Before going to get her coffee, Brennan slipped quietly behind the chair he was sitting in, leaning on the back of the chair so her head was next to his. Booth chuckled when he felt her presence, and turned his head to give her a kiss on the cheek. Brennan smiled and ruffled his hair with her fingers, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.

"You're affectionate this morning," Booth observed, his eyes back on the newspaper as Brennan just ran her fingers through his short, dark, hair, giving it an occasional ruffle to make sure it stayed it's normal, disarranged self, and didn't look too groomed.

"I dreamt of you last night," she informed him, "maybe that's why."

"Oh," Booth laughed softly, dragging out the small word a couple seconds, as he held his half eaten half a bagel up to her, offering her a bite, "was it anything like the dream you had about me in your office yesterday? Because you never actually did explain that to me in full detail, and I'd love to hear it, considering I was one of the stars."

Brennan leaned slightly over his shoulder and took a bite of his bagel when he offered it to her, rolling her eyes at the mention of her dream from the day prior. She'd already made it clear to him that 'the dream' was a topic that was off limits. It was never going to come up again.

"I'm not talking about that incident from yesterday," she said sternly, "half the dream probably wouldn't have even happened if you weren't teasing me and whispering things into my unconscious ear. I didn't think you knew that even when people are sleeping they can still process what they are hearing."

"Bones, I knew that when I was twelve," he informed her, taking a bite out of his bagel now, "and I don't know why you're so embarrassed of it. Everyone has dreams like that. You can't control what you're thinking about when you sleep, and, in your case, you happened to be thinking about making love with a hot and sexy FBI agent."

"Well we weren't exactly making love," she admitted sheepishly.

"Then what the hell were we doing? Baking cookies?" His face indicated confusion.

"No, we were doing, what you're thinking, but we weren't 'making love' per say," Brennan tried to explain.

"Ah, so it was casual sex?"

"No, Booth, it was just, I don't know."

"Kinky?"

"Booth!"

"Well if you weren't speaking in riddles this wouldn't be so hard."

"I'm not speaking in riddles, I'm just not being explicit."

"Just tell me, Bones, because now it's going to bug me until I understand."

Brennan opened her mouth to explain, but immediately closed it when she realized what he was up to.

"You're just trying to get me to talk about it," she accused.

"Yes, I am. Because after you tell me what it was about, I'll never have to bring it up again. You can't just moan my name over and over in your sleep and expect me to let it go. If you have a fantasy you'd like to play out, I'm all ears."

"You won't," she said, plainly.

"Says who?"

"Says you. You already said you didn't want to."

"What the hell are you talking about, Bones?"

Brennan drew in a deep breath before she spoke, feeling a mixture of embarrassed and nervous when she told him what she was dreaming about when she fell asleep in the office.

"You and I," she started, taking a long pause to sort the words out in her head, trying to make them sound as normal as possible, "we were getting hot and heavy on your desk. When we were about to actually have intercourse, that's when I woke up."

Booth laughed, causing the blush that was already on her cheeks to get worse. The fact that he was laughing at her irritated her slightly, since that was the whole reason she didn't want to tell him in the first place.

"You're right, that's not going to happen," his laugh relaxed to a chuckle.

"Booth!" She complained, "So you made me tell you for nothing?"

"I figured I handcuffed you or something, I didn't think we were having sex on my desk."

"You can be such a jerk," she commented.

"Aw, come on Bones," he craned his neck to look at Brennan, who was still standing behind him throughout the conversation, and smiled cutely, "bagel?" He held his bagel back up to her, giving her the most adorable smile he could muster up at the moment, since he knew she was annoyed with his response to her dream.

"Offering me a bite of your bagel is not going to make me forgive you any faster," she said, keeping her eyes cold as she tried her best to resist his boyish charm.

"What if I make you your own bagel? And a cup of coffee?" He tried.

"Booth," she warned, "I'm serious."

"Bones," he chuckled lightly, "what is the big deal? So I won't have sex with you _on_ my desk. It's not like I'm asking you to make some huge sacrifice. And I thought you said making love was better than all that kinky crap anyway?"

"It is, but I've always had this work desk-sex fetish," she said this as if it were completely normal, "I'm not really sure why. I've never actually done it, but it seems quite enjoyable. That wasn't the first time I dreamed about us having intercourse on your desk. That was the first time it was ever so vivid, but that's probably due to the fact that you were actually near me, so I could actually hear your voice and smell your cologne."

"Yeah, Bones, that's borderline creepy," he told her, "how many times have you had this 'desk dream' anyway?"

"I don't keep count, but if I had to take an educated guess, maybe three or four times."

Booth stifled the laugh that wanted to come out, since he knew he was already pressing his luck with her patients.

"How about next time we're together, we pretend we're on my desk?" he tried.

"That wouldn't work. Just forget it. Like you said, it's not a big deal."

"Temperance Brennan, you're trying to make me feel guilty right now," he turned in his chair so he was facing her fully, as he pointed an accusing finger at her, "you think you're playing me, but I'm the one playing you, Bones, because I can read you like a book."

"I'm not playing anything," she said, slightly confused, "I'm telling you it's not a big deal. If you think I'm trying to make you feel guilty, it's because you actually feel guilty."

"I do not feel guilty," Booth laughed, "how about we just let it go?"

"Fine," Brennan muttered, knowing it was nearly impossible to convince him of anything, since he was, by far, the most stubborn person she'd ever met.

She slipped out from behind his chair and opened the cabinet that contained the coffee cups, taking one out, setting it on the counter, and pouring herself a cup of coffee. Booth folded the newspaper back up when nothing else caught his interest, and set it back on the table, standing up and quietly slipping next to Brennan now as she added the milk and sugar to her coffee. Brennan tried her best to ignore his presence, but had to crack a smile.

"You're smiling," Booth observed, "you're so not mad at me."

"I'm not _mad_," she said, "I was just a little annoyed, but I'm over it."

"Do you want to share last night's dream with me?" He asked.

Brennan nodded, swallowing the coffee that was in her mouth before she started, blushing a light pink when she felt one of his arms snake around her waist his fingertips grazing lightly over her hip bone.

"We didn't have to keep 'us' a secret. Everyone knew, even Cullen, and we were still allowed to be partners. We just got home from having to go out of state for a case, and by the time we got back, both of us were exhausted. It was raining, so you gave me your jacket to hold over my head when we got out of the car, and we ran up to the porch. We glanced at each other when you went to unlock the door, and started to laugh. I'm not really aware of what was funny, but apparently I was in the dream, so we just laughed together, until you wrapped your arms around my waist-"

Booth cut her off mid sentence to take her by the waist and turn her to face him, circling her waist gently with his arms.

"Like this?" He asked.

"Tighter," she instructed him, as he tightened his grip around her waist, "like that," she took a short pause before she continued, "and we just looked into each other's eyes, until you leaned down, and kissed me."

Her eyes fluttered closed when he leaned down and captured her lips with his her hand instinctively moving to tangle her fingers in his hair. She loosened her grip on his hair when she came to realize that there was nothing rushed in the kiss, and that their lips were just caressing the other's softly. Kissing Booth was so much different than kissing any of her past lovers. He seemed to enjoy just taking things slow, letting her feel every part of the kiss, as opposed to rushing everything, and, it didn't always have to lead to intimacy with him. There were barely ever times when she kissed Sully, or Michael, like that, and it didn't lead to sex, but with Booth, she could just kiss him and not expect for it to go further. Brennan's eyes opened slowly when his lips left hers, not even noticing the small smile she was wearing on her lips afterwards.

"Like that," she laughed lightly, "but, I know this will be your favorite part, when you reached up to caress the side of my face," she shivered lightly when his hand touched her face, "that's when I noticed you were wearing a ring."

"And why would that be my favorite part?" Booth asked, not following her logic.

"We were married, Booth," she explained.

"Oh," he was slightly shocked that she would dream about them being married, "do you think that means anything?"

"No," Brennan said casually, "dreams are just a representation of what your mind is thinking when you're asleep, which is something you can not control," she paused when she realized that saying 'no' like that may have been hurtful, "I know you're the type of man who wants to get married, but that's just not me, Booth. I'm sorry."

"Bones, it's fine," he assured her, "nothing has to be legal. If you don't want a legal marriage, I'm not going to force it on you. And besides, marriage shouldn't even be part of the discussion right now. We've barely been together for three weeks."

"I know," Brennan nodded in agreement, "but I don't want you to think that I'm still uncomfortable with being monogamous, because I'm committed, Booth."

"I know, Bones," he promised, "but I can also tell that you're still scared."

"I'm just still adjusting to the concept," she said, "I'm not used to being in an exclusive relationship. The last real relationship I was in was with Sully, and that was over a year ago. And in addition to that, my relationship with Sully was a lot different than my relationship with you is. Sully and I were romantic from the start, while you and I built a friendship for years before anything got romantic. If something goes wrong between us, we'd never be able to just go back to being friends and partners."

"You're right," he told her honestly, "but that's a risk I'm willing to take, and a risk I thought you were willing to take too."

"I am," she promised, "I'm yours, one hundred percent. I thought we established this already. When we made love, I was giving myself to you, letting you know that I'm willing to risk our friendship, our partnership, to be with you. Because I need to have the comfort in knowing that we tried, even if it doesn't work out. I'd feel much better knowing that it just wasn't meant to be, than just having to imagine what could have been for the rest of my life."

"Bones," Booth whispered, her words really getting to him.

"Shh," Brennan pressed a finger to his lips, "don't say anything. Just let me," she paused as she wrapped herself around him, melting into his arms as she nuzzled the skin of his neck, inhaling the scent in a deep breath, "just let me feel you."

Booth stayed quiet, as she instructed, and just traced over her spine with his fingers, holding her close as she had her moment. Brennan pushed his arms down gently so she could reach his hands, taking them in hers and guiding them to the bottom of her tank top.

"Take it off," she instructed him, her voice low and hoarse, the kind that indicated she was losing control of her emotions, as she whispered into the skin of his neck.

"Bones," his voice was slightly uncertain, "we have to go to work in a little while."

"I don't care," she whispered, taking his hands back in hers and guiding them under her tank top, so she could feel his hands against the skin of her stomach, as she pressed a soft kiss to the side of his neck, "take it off, Booth."

"We can't," he whispered, his voice slightly apologetic, "we have a murderer to catch."

"You're so stubborn," she growled, reaching for the bottom of her tank top, willing to pull it off herself if he wouldn't do it for her, as she nipped at the skin of his neck.

Before she could get her shirt past her rib cage, Booth's hands grabbed her arms, stopping her. He could hear a small whimper of protest escape her lips when his hands were no longer on the warm skin of her stomach, but were holding her arms to stop her from ripping her clothes off.

"Bones, we can't," his voice had a stern tone to it, even though it was still soft.

Brennan leaned up from where she had her face still buried in his neck, and bit her lip, feeling slightly ashamed that she let herself let go of her emotions like that. Booth flashed her a reassuring smile when he saw the look of embarrassment on her face.

"Sorry," she mumbled ashamedly, smoothing her tank top back down.

"Don't worry about it," he brushed off the incident, "we all have those moments."

Brennan half smiled as she unwrapped herself from around him and pulled back, taking a step away from him so they were no longer in one another's personal space.

"We should probably, go get ready for work," she suggested.

"Good idea," Booth had to chuckle at the awkwardness of the situation, as they went to go get ready to resume the murder investigation from the day prior.


	25. Is That A Good Thing?

**A/N: If you all love me, you'll excuse any grammatical errors and lack of enthusiasm in this AN. It's five o' clock in the morning, I haven't slept, and I simply wrote this chapter because I couldn't sleep. So let's give me the benefit of the doubt here. xD**

**Thanks for everything. =]**

Chapter Twenty-Five:

"Is That A Good Thing?"

Brennan put on her lab coat before she left her office, her mind one hundred percent focused on what she was doing, until Angela stopped her short.

"Sweetie," Angela's voice filled her ears as she put her hands on her shoulders and pushed her back into her office, closing the door behind them, "we need to chat."

"Ange, I really have to go find cause of death," Brennan said, going to slide past her before Angela body blocked the door, making sure she didn't have an escape route.

"Zack's taking care of that," Angela smirked.

Brennan gave up on trying to swerve past her when she realized that no matter what she did, she wasn't going to be able to pass. She let out a long sigh, her eyes scolding as she looked at her friend and made her way over to her couch.

"I doubt that whatever you are about to tell or ask me is more important than someone who was brutally murdered," she said, as Angela took her seat next to her.

"Well when Booth went to go get you to talk to the victim's wife, I remembered that huge fight the two of you got in at the banquet," Angela bit her lip, wondering if wording it that way was a little harsh, "sorry if that sounded, mean, but I didn't really know how else to say it. But anyway you left the bathroom and I didn't see you for the rest of the night."

"And?" Brennan asked.

"And, you never told me how everything went!" Angela exclaimed.

"It went fine," Brennan told her, giving her the most basic answer she could, "Booth and I are fine. Everything's done and over with. We're putting it behind us and moving forward."

Angela gave her the 'you've got to be kidding me' look as Brennan looked back at her with a questioning expression.

"Details, Bren!" She exclaimed, sitting up so her elbows rested on her knees, "what did you say? What did he say? How did the rest of the night go? Why are you holding out on me all of a sudden? You know I'm not going to tell anyone about the two of you. Not that the idea of you two devouring each other in a sweaty, passionate, frenzy isn't totally hot, but you-"

"Ange," Brennan cut her off, "can you not talk so loud. My office isn't soundproof you know. It's so easy to hear through these walls, or for someone to walk in without knocking."

Angela glared at her until she spoke again.

"I told him I didn't mean what I said about monogamy, and we just talked it over and sorted it out. Then we kissed, outside to make sure no one saw us, and then we went home."

"And?"

"And nothing. We went home. End of the night."

"I'm not buying it. What happened? You went home and you just went to sleep?"

"We had sex, but I don't see how that pertains to anything."

Angela had a bright smile on her face .

"Of course it 'pertains' to the conversations, sweetie," Angela explained, "you see, Brennan, there are different degrees of forgiveness. There's the 'I'm willing to let it go, but I'm still kind of mad' type of forgiveness, the 'you're forgiven, now let's not fight anymore' forgiveness, and the 'I forgive you, now take me to that bedroom and let me have my way with you,' forgiveness. And sweetie, Booth forgave you to the third degree."

"Is that a good thing?" A clueless Brennan asked.

"It's a _great_ thing," Angela assured her, "hmpf, I'd love for Booth to forgive me to the third degree, but he's off the market now. If you two weren't together, sweetie I'd buy a ticket on that ride."

"You told me that already," Brennan said, "and Booth is not a ride."

"I know, it was just an expression," Angela sighed, "so how is he in bed anyway?"

"Angela!"

"What? I'm just curious!"

Brennan put her head in her hands and let out a long sigh. She loved Angela to death, but sometimes she drove her crazy with her nosiness. Angela was one of those people who had to know everything about everyone, or she would just feel hollow inside.

"He's an exceptional partner," she said plainly.

"Brennan, come on. Do you think that's going to satisfy me?"

"I was hoping it would."

Angela gave her the same look as she did a couple minutes prior, her eyes urging her to go on.

"He's very gentle and considerate. He knows the majority of my sensitive spots, and he knows just how to tease me. The bad part about that, though, is that he teases me, and then leaves without acting on it. It drives me crazy. And he's extremely dominant, but I'd guess that's because of his natural desire to always feel like the alpha male."

"He's always dominant?" Angela asked, "Doesn't that bother you?"

"Not really," Brennan shrugged, "normally it would, but with Booth, I don't really mind being submissive. I'm not really sure why. But I'm perfectly content letting him be in control."

"Is he loud?" Angela asked.

"Not really," Brennan shrugged again, "he's not silent, but he keeps it between us, which I thoroughly enjoy. It makes it that much more sexy when he's whispering and moaning in my ear, as opposed to sharing with everyone who's in screaming range."

"Hodgins is the exact opposite," Angela sounded slightly annoyed as she spoke, "he's very, vocal, for lack of a better word."

"That's not all bad though," Brennan said, "at least you know you're pleasing him."

"Do you doubt that you please Booth?"

"No," Brennan had to laugh at the question, "I know for a fact that I please Booth."

"Do you call him Booth in bed?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes I call him Seeley. It really all depends."

"And he calls you...?"

"Again, it really all depends. He, for the most part, calls me Bones, but an occasional Temperance will slip out here and there. Same with Seeley."

Angela was about to ask her another question, before there was a knock on Brennan's office door, causing them to both turn their heads towards the noise.

"It's open," Brennan called to the person who was knocking.

Booth opened the door, stepping inside and closing it behind him. Angela had to smirk, since he had no idea all the information she just got about him. He looked so innocent and oblivious in his suit and 'Cocky' belt buckle, but she now knew what Brennan knew, and that made her feel like she held the cards. She could totally black mail him into erasing some of her parking tickets for her now.

"Hey, Bones...and Angela," he smiled politely at the two girls, before he took a seat on the other side of Brennan, kissing her affectionately on the cheek to greet her, "sorry. I didn't know you had company. I could come back later."

"No, the more the happier," Brennan said.

"I think you mean _merrier_, sweetie," Angela laughed lightly.

Brennan just looked at her, without responding, since she knew Angela was right. Between Angela and Booth, she was used to being corrected all the time. They were so ungrateful. She tried to use sayings that they could relate to, but all the did was correct her.

"What were you two talking about? Or is it 'girl stuff'?" Booth asked.

Angela and Brennan exchanged glances, both giggling like idiots after a few seconds, as they glanced at Booth's puzzled expression, only causing them to laugh harder.

"Definitely girl stuff," Angela laughed.

"Okay, then I'll come back," Booth chuckled lightly, going to stand, before Brennan grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"No. Stay," she said, giving Angela a silent glance, telling her to get lost.

"Oh, right," Angela winked, standing up and walking over to the door, opening it and stepping out of the office, not before poking her head back in, "don't shake the walls _too_ much."

Brennan shot Angela a dirty look.

"Love your guts, sweetie," Angela blew her a kiss before pulling the door closed.

Brennan sighed and laid back across her couch, resting her head in Booth's lap as she shifted comfortably, reaching up to play with his tie once she was settled into a comfortable spot.

"What did you need?" She asked, her eyes and hands on his bizarre tie, "did Zack find cause of death? Do we need to go question somebody?"

"No," Booth said, slipping her hair out of it's hair tie and running his fingers gently through it when it cascaded over where her head was resting in his lap, "the case is at a standstill until the Squint Squad can find a cause of death and murder weapon. We have no leads. Any other lead will have to come from how this guy died and what he was killed with."

"My team is very capable," she reminded him, even though he knew that, "they'll find something. And you know I hate when you call us the Squint Squad."

"Bones, you're not part of the Squint Squad, because you don't stay here and squint at things _all_ the time, most of the time you're out fighting crime with your truly," Booth explained, "even though I know you'd much prefer to be squinting at bones."

"I'm the one who forced you to take me to the crime scene, remember?" She asked.

"Because you said you wouldn't work with me if I didn't," he finished for her.

Brennan nodded.

"We really didn't get along at first, did we?"

"No, we didn't," Booth laughed lightly at how they used to fight constantly, and not the playful bickering that they did now, but actual fighting, "I think that was because of the way you felt about me though. Because you had such a hard time resisting me."

Brennan had to laugh and roll her eyes playfully.

"I hated you," she assured him, "I felt no sexual attraction towards you until later."

"I know you hated me," he assured her, "you slapped me and said you were never going to speak to me again."

"Because you brought up my father," she reminded him.

"Well that was before I knew," he reminded her right back.

"Well that's why you don't say things like that until you know a person's history."

"So you're saying I should have known about your parents?"

"No, I'm just simply saying you should keep your comments about family to yourself until you know a person's full situation. And, just pointing out, we're bickering again."

Booth had to laugh at the irony. They were bickering about fighting.

"I know," he laughed softly, "but we wouldn't be Bones and Booth if we weren't bickering. Even though you're always the one who starts with me."

"I do not!" Brennan giggled, sitting up now so she could look him in the eyes, "you've started with me plenty of times. You're the one that starts more."

"Me?" Booth laughed, "you're always correcting me, and insulting my religion, and-"

He was cut off when she pressed her lips softly to his, her hands slipping behind his neck to hold him close, making sure he couldn't pull away. Booth, however, had no intentions to pull away, as his tongue traced slowly over her bottom lip, practically begging for entrance. Brennan moaned softly as her lips parted, gasping lightly in her throat when his tongue slid into her mouth without hesitation. She pressed her tongue to his, eliciting a groan from deep in his chest, getting her twice as excited as she already was, her fingers tangling tightly in his hair as they kissed.

"Booth," she moaned softly into his mouth, winding his shorts locks of hair tightly around her fingers, "Booth, please. Booth."

"What do you want?" He mumbled against her lips, knowing she got flustered and her words got jumbled when she was kissing him, so she could usually only say 'Booth' and 'please'.

"Say my name," she pleaded.

"Temperance," he whispered smoothly against her lips, causing her to wrap her arms tight around his neck, squeezing him close to her as she moaned softly against his lips.

Booth disconnected their lips only a few seconds later, hearing a whimper of protest from her throat when he did. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand to wipe away any traces of her lip gloss on his mouth.

"Not yet," he said, softly, "when we get home."

"Promise?" She asked, knowing he could be a tease sometimes.

"Yes, I promise," he assured her.

"What made you change your mind?" She asked.

Booth had to laugh at her question.

"Bones, I never didn't want to," he laughed, "do you know how much restraint it took me to say no to you before? I wanted to, but I knew we had to get to work and catch this murderer. I was going to tell you that we'd resume later, but I didn't want you to be distracted thinking about it all day. I'm a guy, and you're my sexy squint, do the math. You really think I'd say no?"

"No," she admitted, keeping her arms locked around his neck, as she leaned close again, "but I think I want a sneak preview of what's going to come later."

"Bones," he complained, "you're making this increasingly harder."

"Just kissing, Booth, nothing more," she promised, leaning closer, "then we can finish later. Please?"

Unable to resist her begging, Booth leaned in and pressed his lips back to hers, as she melted into his arms in satisfaction that she felt his lips on her once more. Ever since that morning, all she could think about was him, and the talk she was having with Angela made the craving just that much more unbearable. After only a few seconds of kissing, she broke the kiss, barely giving him a chance to breath before she unbuttoned her lab coat, stretching out her neck to urge him on.

"Bones, you're taking off your clothes now," he reminded her, "just kissing."

"I want you to kiss me," she pointed to the top of her chest, right under her collarbone, "right here."

Obeying her wishes, Booth leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her chest. She held his head close, feeling a moan in deep in her throat as he kissed where she asked him to, stretching out a little more to urge him lower.

"Bones," his tone was warning.

"Please," she whispered, anger boiling inside her when she heard a knock on her door, ignoring the knocking as she pushed the camisole that she was wearing under her v-neck shirt down a little bit to give him room, "don't stop," she whispered in his ear.

The knocking grew louder and slightly more impatient as Booth kissed where she had instructed him to, making sure not to tread into any dangerous territories.

"I'll be out in a few minute," she called to the person knocking, burying her face in his hair to let out a soft moan of pleasure as she tangled her fingers into his hair.

The knocking didn't stop, and Brennan made sure that Booth didn't either. She drew in a slow breath, making sure it was inaudible to the person at the door as she called to them again.

"Just a minute," she called to them, her breathing slightly erratic.

The person outside the door knew she wasn't busy with anything important, and that she was just stalling, so instead of waiting a minute, like Brennan had asked, they just pushed the door open, catching them in the act.

**I know, I know, cliffhanger, I'm sorry. I feel slightly evil now. xD **


	26. You Two Are Adorable

**A/N: Okay, okay, I won't leave you all hanging anymore. Thanks for all the reviews/alerts/other things. xD Honestly, they make my day, still.**

**There's some steam in this chapter, but nothing too graphic (I don't think so at least). So, just a warning, in case that's not your thing. =]**

Chapter Twenty-Six:

"You Two Are Adorable"

Booth pulled back as quickly as possible when the door started to open, and Brennan could feel her body start to tremble when the door opened, knowing that there was no way in hell she was going to be able to explain this one away. Even though he attempted to pull away before whoever was at the door came inside, it wouldn't have been fast enough. And even if, by some chance, it was fast enough, how was she going to explain why her shirt was misplaced, his hair was messed up, and their breathing was heavy?

"Jeez, sweetie, you have the sex drive of a seventeen year old boy," Angela giggled, as Brennan relaxed slightly and Angela shut the door behind her, "what, did you two start getting it on as soon as I left the room? At least wait a few minutes."

"Angela!" Brennan scolded her, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest as she tried to calm herself down from how badly Angela scared her when she walked in on them, "the point of knocking is not supposed to be so you can knock and then come in even when the person tells you to wait a minute."

"Well I knew you were making me wait because you were with Booth, so I decided to take it into my own hands and just walk in on you two," Angela explained, shrugging, as if this were perfectly acceptable, "invest in a lock for your door."

"I have a lock, I just didn't expect you to just walk into my office like it was yours. People don't seem to understand the concept of privacy anymore. Booth does the same thing."

"Hey, hey, leave me out of this," Booth put his hands up, as if he were surrendering, "I'm innocent. This is between you two. I'm just here to observe."

"Is there a reason that you're here, Ange?" Brennan asked, a little annoyed with her friend for interrupting their sensual moment.

"Yes, there is," Angela nodded, remembering why she went to Brennan's office in the first place, "Zack found two things. He said our victim was struck with something that's flat and round," she paused, "except it sounded more scientific when he said it."

"So cause of death is head trauma," Brennan said, pulling her camisole up so it was back in it's proper position.

"No exactly," Angela said, "he said the impact of the round and flat thing wouldn't be enough to kill him, but it would hurt, a lot, probably knock him unconscious. But he also found stab wounds in the something-or-other bones. You're going to have to ask him."

"So our victim was knocked out with a frying pan and then stabbed to death?" Booth asked.

"Frying pan?" Brennan asked, "where did you get frying pan?"

"Round and flat," Booth drew an imaginary circle with his fingers in the air, "think of a frying pan, the top is hollowed out, but the bottom is round and flat. And it's metal, so if you hit someone with it, it could cause some damage."

"I think _Booth_ is 'King of the Lab' this time around," Angela laughed lightly.

"Well now I can die a happy man," Booth's voice was sarcastic.

"Both of you, slow down," Brennan said, holding her hand up to stop them, "we have no evidence that it was a frying pan. Booth simply took an educated guess."

"Not to rain on your parade, sweetie, but, actually, Hodgins found some metal that he hasn't finished identifying yet," Angela informed her.

"Frying pan," Booth looked at Brennan, giving her the 'I told you so' look.

"We don't know that yet," Brennan said, not willing to just let him have his moment, "until we find evidence that the item used was, in fact, a frying pan, I'm not going to tell you that you're right. I don't guess. I need all the evidence before I make a decision."

Booth rolled his eyes as Angela exchanged glances between the two of them. She was surprised by how easily they could go from kissing each other and moaning on the couch, to bickering like they always did. The one thing she knew though, was that both of them were too stubborn to change, no matter how far their relationship went. They could get married, and Angela was pretty sure they'd still bicker and argue constantly.

"So all we know is that the victim was knocked unconscious, and then stabbed repeatedly. That doesn't really give us a lead," Brennan said, her voice slightly nervous.

"The victim's wife has access to a frying pan," Booth pointed out.

"Booth, first of all, we still haven't established the weapon. And even, for the sake of the argument, if it was a frying pan, all of America has access to one. Saying that the victim's wife had access to a frying pan is not going to get us a warrant. We need more solid evidence than that."

"I know it's a stretch, but not only does Mrs. Raymond have access to the weapon, but she also has motive and her alibi hasn't checked out yet," Booth argued, "Bones, if it turns out that the victim's wife wasn't in Alabama like she says she was, I'm getting a warrant to search her house, with or without you. I'm not going to let a murderer wander around because you're too stubborn to admit that I was right."

"_I'm_ stubborn?" Brennan asked, her tone slightly more animated, as Angela just watched them, taking a seat on Brennan's couch, since the two of them were standing and having their heated conversation, "you're the most stubborn person in the world, Booth! If anyone in the entire D.C. area is stubborn, it's you."

"I'm not having this argument with you," Booth brushed off her comment, convinced that she was just trying to bicker with him again, as he smoothed out the fabric of his shirt, "I'm going to see if Mrs. Raymond's alibi checks out. I'll call you with the results later."

Brennan half smiled as she leaned up to press a soft kiss to his lips, their relationship changing from tense to romantic in just a matter of seconds. She held back a whimper, since Angela was still in the room, just observing them, when he nibbled gently on her bottom lip.

"Are we okay?" He asked softly, completely forgetting their company.

"Of course," Brennan responded, pressing a soft kiss to the line of his jaw, "work isn't going to come between us. We're going to disagree on some things when it comes to work, but that's not going to effect our intimate relationship."

"You don't know how good it feels to hear that," Booth chuckled, "pick up where we left off a little later?"

"Definitely," Brennan smiled, placing one last soft kiss on his lips before he left her office, and she turned to face Angela again, who had a smile stretched across her face.

Angela's eyes were adoring as Brennan sat next to her again, putting her hair quickly back up in the bun it was in before Booth took it down as she gave her friend a curious look.

"What?" Brennan asked, when Angela beamed at her.

"You two are adorable!" Angela squeaked, causing Brennan to wince back at the sudden outburst, "you could be on the front of a Hallmark Card or something."

Brennan's cheeks flushed red, feeling slightly embarrassed, since she wasn't used to people commenting on their relationship, due to the fact that no one knew.

"We should get to work," Brennan said, simply, standing up again, buttoning her lab coat back up, and opening her office door, waiting to walk out with Angela.

**(line break)**

It was about nine o' clock at this point, and Brennan hadn't heard from Booth since he left her office that morning. She pulled her left glove off, and when she went to pull off her right, her phone started to ring in her pocket. Reaching in her pocket with the hand that was already free from the glove, she pulled her phone out and flipped it open.

"Brennan," she answered her phone, holding it between her shoulder and her ear as she pulled her other glove off.

"_Hey, Bones,_" Booth's voice came in on the other end of the phone.

"Hi," Brennan said, tossing the used gloves into the trash, "how did everything go?"

"_Turns out, like I predicted, the wife was not in Alabama on the day Raymond was murdered. We're gonna be able to get her on this, Bones. Why else would she have lied about being out of state?_"

"Booth, she could have just forgot," she said, pausing, as the silence on the other end seemed to urge her to continue, "admittedly, you're probably right. It's very possible that Laura Raymond is our perp. But, you should have waited for evidence before you accused."

"_You know, you could just say 'Good job, Booth. You did great!',_" Booth said, not laughing, even though his voice indicated that he was half kidding.

"I could," Brennan assured him, going to her office to put her lab coat back, shutting the door behind her as she shrugged it off her shoulders, "I'm leaving in five minutes. Are you on your way home or what?"

"_That's the other reason I called," he started, "Bones, I think we're going to have to postpone our plans for tonight. Apparently I'm the only Special Agent who can do anything around here, and they need me to take care of something._"

"Should I come too? I _am_ your partner."

"_No, it's just an FBI thing. But I swear, we're not cancelling, just putting it on hold._"

Brennan was slightly disappointed, but she didn't let it show, not wanting to seem needy or clingy, or simply like she was addicted to sex.

"Okay," she said, "you kind of had me excited for tonight with my preview I got earlier, but I suppose no harm could come in waiting."

Booth chuckled on the other end of the phone, and Brennan smiled at the sound.

"_I was excited too,_"he chuckled_, _"_but hey, being a Special Agent In-Charge has it's stigmas sometimes. I probably won't be home until late. Probably like, one thirty, if I'm lucky_."

"Well I'll be there when you get home, probably sleeping though," Brennan reminded him, "remember we packed enough for me to spend the weekend? I think Angela refers to that as 'Stage Two', out of six."

"_Sounds like Angela,_" he commented, "_but I really have to go, Bones. I'll see you either when I get home tonight or tomorrow morning. Bye, love you._"

Before she could even respond, she heard the dial tone on the other end of the line, indicating that he hung up. Reluctantly, Brennan shut her phone and put on her real coat, slipping her phone into her pocket before she left the lab and drove back to Booth's house.

**(line break)**

Another few hours past. It was about two thirty in the morning, and Brennan was sleeping soundly, buried under the covers of Booth's bed as she slept in a dreamless sleep. She was so far gone into her sleep, that she didn't even hear the front door open. However, she did hear the bedroom door open, and she woke halfway up, opening her eyes, but wasn't alert enough to be startled by the noise. The bedroom door clicked closed again, the light that was streaming in from the hallway getting quickly shut out, and Brennan closed her eyes once more, mumbling a barely audible hello to Booth when he slipped into bed next to her, only wondering for a second why he didn't bother changing out of his work clothes.

The only thing that pulled Brennan fully out of her sleep was when she felt him nip against the top of her ear, making his way down to her earlobe, as she gasped slightly, her heart rate already increasing and her breathing becoming slightly labored.

"Seeley," she moaned, her right hand loosening his tie without hesitation, sliding it over his head before she pushed his suit jacket quickly off his shoulders.

Booth chuckled, his tone low and raspy as he kissed open-mouthed down her neck, his warm breath ticking the spots that were left damp by his lips. Brennan was wondering, in the back of her mind, what got into him all of the sudden, but she didn't want to ruin the moment with words. Brennan whimpered slightly when his breath teased the base of her neck, the last piece of skin that was uncovered by her t-shirt, as she held her arms up over her head to give him a silent signal.

Booth took her request and pulled the t-shirt gently over her head, tossing it on the floor once it was all the way off her body, continuing his trail of kisses to her collarbone. Brennan bit her lip, but the moan escaped anyway when she felt his fingers caress up the exposed skin of her legs. She was grateful that she decided to sleep in shorts that night. Not sure which sensation to focus on, Brennan unbuttoned the front of his shirt as quickly as she could, sliding her hands down his toned and still warm chest once it was exposed, taking a minute to appreciate his body before she pushed his shirt off his shoulders to join the jacket and her t-shirt on the ground.

Brennan slid her arms around him, so her fingers could trace over his back as his lips trailed to her stomach, leaving light and teasing kisses to the skin. She gasped and let out one vocal moan when his tongue teased around her naval. Unable to bear the sensation of Booth's tongue against her bellybutton, she took his face tightly between her hands and pulled him up to her lips, kissing with much urgency. Brennan, surprisingly, was the one to beg him for entrance that time, attempting to slide her tongue between his lips before he parted them. Once his lips were parted, she wasted no time before pressing her tongue to his, struggling for dominance in the kiss, only to have him come out on top, the way he always did. Brennan dug her nails into his chest as Booth let out a quiet groan into her mouth, his fingers dancing gingerly over her stomach, a few patches of skin still wet from his kisses.

Wanting her turn to be the 'alpha female', Brennan pushed him back so she could be in control, despite the fact that she knew he didn't want her to be. She wasted no time before pressing her lips to his torso, knowing it was only a matter of time before he turned them back to the way he was comfortable, with him being the dominant one. She was slightly surprised when she felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten, and heard a groan escape from his lips. Smirking slyly, Brennan traced her fingers over the rooster in his belt buckle, turning her head to rest it against his stomach, her cheek burning as his stomach rose and fell with his heavy breathing.

"You're cocky?" Brennan asked teasingly, speaking the first words of the night as she picked up her head and very slowly pressed her lips to the cold metal of his belt buckle.

"Oh, God, Temperance," Booth groaned, closing his eyes in an attempt to control himself, trying not to focus on how close her mouth was to 'Little Booth'.

"Answer me," she whispered against the metal, paying him back for all the times he teased her this way.

"Yes," he groaned, answering her question as she unbuckled it slowly, satisfied with his answer.

"I like a man with confidence," she purred, the button and zipper on his pants giving way easily, as she moved back up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth as she teasingly slid his pants down very slowly, "look at me," she instructed him.

Booth opened his eyes on command, having that same hint of seduction as hers, sending shivers down her spine when their eyes connected. Booth trailed his hands slowly down her waist, toying with the waistband of her shorts as she disposed of his pants.

"Booth," Brennan whispered when his thumbs slid into the waistband of her shorts, teasing her, as he pretended to be contemplating the actions, "just take them off, please."

Booth slid her shorts swiftly off when she begged, pressing a kiss to her collarbone, his tongue making contact with her skin.

"Oh, please, Seeley," she moaned, arching her back in encouragment, pressing her stomach to his abdomen.

"Do you want me?" He asked in a raspy voice, pressing his forehead to hers as he looked her deep in the eyes.

"Yes," she whispered, without hesitation, pulling the covers over their heads, the only sounds in the room for the rest of the night being sounds of pleasure.

**I do feel bad for teasing you all and making you think someone new was going to find out, but I made up for it with the love scene, right? xD**


	27. I'm Just Appreciating You

**A/N: Again, thanking everyone who reviewed/alerted/any of that other good stuff. xD I'm a big fan of feedback. Can't get enough of it. =] When I don't reply to reviews, don't think I don't care, because I do, honestly. =]**

**So, this chapter is pretty much just fluff. So if you're fluffy, like me, you'll probably like it. **

Chapter Twenty-Seven:

"I'm Just Appreciating You"

Neither of them were able to sleep that night, but neither of them spoke either, not wanting to ruin the mood they'd set with words. The now satisfied couple was laying on their stomachs, looking into one another's eyes, smiles on their faces as they just got lost in each other. Normally, Brennan would have found that awkward. It _would_ have been awkward with anyone who wasn't Booth. But with Booth, she was content just looking into his eyes, her fingers running over his back as she listened to his breathing, which had settled down noticeably throughout the past ten or so minutes. Booth's fingers caressed softly over her arm, shooting goose bumps up her back as she shivered. Finally, after just laying next to, but not very close to him, for a while, she scooted closer, so their shoulders were touching as Booth propped himself up on his elbows.

"Bones," he whispered, every bit of seduction gone from his voice as he spoke to her softly, and filled with love, his fingers tracing over her shoulder.

"Booth," she whispered back, her hands traveling down the muscles in his arms.

Brennan propped herself up on her elbows as well, so she could kiss his shoulder blade softly. Booth laid back on his chest to make it easier for her, as she shifted to get comfortable, her lips making their way tenderly down his shoulder blade. He closed his eyes, not because he was tired, but from pleasure.

"Mmm, Bones," he purred, "you're perfect."

"I'm not," she assured him, her breath caressing his skin when she spoke, "you're just blinded by your feelings, so you don't notice my imperfections."

"Shhhh," he dragged out the sound as her lips reached the bottom of his shoulder blade, only to start from there and make their way back up, "you talk too much."

Brennan did as he wished and stayed quiet for the rest of the way up his shoulder blade, kissing a little further up this time to reach the crook between his shoulder and his neck, nipping gently at the skin before she nuzzled the skin of his neck affectionately, resting her head there.

"I thought you said we were postponing that?" She asked playfully, nuzzling the skin of his neck once more, seeming unable to get enough of him that night.

"I needed a release," he responded, playfully as well.

"Don't you use my own logic against me, Seeley Booth," she laughed lightly, her fingers tracing over his back, "what happened to me being the one who thought intercourse was just biological urges and you being the one who thought it was an intimate bonding of two individuals?"

"Can't it be both?" Booth asked, draping his arm across her back.

"It could be," Brennan admitted, "but that wasn't making love, was it?"

"It was somewhere in between," he shrugged, "it doesn't always have to be about love though, Bones. Sometimes it can just be simply for pleasure, even if it's with someone you love."

"Which is what that was, right?" She asked.

"Yes," Booth responded, "we'd both been teasing each other all day, and we both needed a release. Biological urges, Bones. You're the one who taught me about this, remember?"

Brennan nodded and laughed softly, thumbing over a small scar on his back. She assumed it was from when he was in the army, since she knew he'd been tortured in war. They never actually had a full conversation about it, probably since it wasn't Booth's favorite topic of discussion, but she remembered when he was in the hospital from the incident in her kitchen, his x-rays showed many indications of it. When she asked him about it, he only responded by saying she shouldn't have been looking at his x-rays, his way of telling her to let it go. At his request, she did, and never brought it up again.

"I love you," Brennan whispered into his neck, after a couple minutes of silence, as she reached up from where she was touching his scar to run her fingers through his hair, not giving him a chance to respond before she started to speak again, "it feels good to say that and actually mean it. I've never actually felt this way about any of my former lovers."

"So are you ready to admit that love isn't just some squinty chemical-y thing that happens in your brain?" Booth asked.

"Well technically speaking, it is," she informed him, peeking up at him from where her head was buried in his neck, "but admittedly, there may be more to it than that, the way you say, although, it's highly unlikely that it has anything to do with your 'heart', since your heart is just a muscle that pumps the blood throughout your body."

Booth had to laugh lightly and roll his eyes.

"Can't you just_ pretend_ to be normal? For five minutes?" He chuckled.

"If I _was _normal, would you still feel the same way about me?" Brennan asked.

Booth put some thought into the question, even though she was only kind of playing around with him. What if she was more like him? Would he still have the same feelings for her? Or would she be too different? If she was 'normal' she wouldn't be Bones, she'd be Tempe. If she was 'normal' they wouldn't even be having this conversation.

"Booth!" Brennan complained, pressing her palm flat against his back, "you have to think about it?"

"Well, Bones, if you were normal, I'm not sure I would have even been drawn to you in the first place," he tried to explain, "it's the fact that you're squinty and robotic that makes you appealing. It's a compliment. You're not just some cookie cutter girl who's a dime a dozen. You're one hundred percent unique."

"Saying I'm 'unique' is just a less harsh way of saying I'm a freak," Brennan frowned.

"No it's not," Booth laughed lightly, "and even if it was, I'd much rather be with a freak than someone who's just like everyone else."

Brennan pressed a soft kiss to his mandible, his words easily convincing her, since somewhere inside, she knew Booth loved her for whatever he thought she was. She sighed as she buried her face easily back in his neck, closing her eyes before she spoke.

"It's getting hard," she admitted.

"Well, Bones, it's not really something I can control when your rubbing against me like-"

"No!" Brennan cut him off quickly, having to giggle as she put her hand over his mouth to stop him, "No, no, no. I didn't mean it like that. I meant 'it' as in keeping our relationship a secret. They're going to find out eventually."

"Oh," Brennan put her hand over his cheek, and could feel his skin warm up in embarrassment, even though she couldn't see the color on them in the pitch black room, as Booth responded to her actual thought, "how is it getting harder? We just continue like we are now. Professional at work, romantic at home. They won't find out."

"You think we're professional at work?" Brennan asked, slightly amused, "we were getting hot and heavy in my office this morning. I wouldn't really classify that as 'professional', and, in all honesty, having to keep it a secret is making professionalism difficult. We have to act like we're just friends in front of everyone, and it just drives me crazy. I think your acting might be fooling my subconscious mind, making me doubt the truth in our relationship."

"And when I come home from work late and have my way with you in a hot and sweaty frenzy, that doesn't convince your 'subconscious mind' otherwise?" Booth asked.

"My subconscious mind may think you could just be using me as an object of sexual pleasure," Brennan responded.

"Bones," Booth sighed, closing his eyes in frustration, "is it your 'subconscious mind' doubting the way I feel about you, or is it Temperance Brennan?"

"Admittedly, I've found myself doubting you a couple times, when you have to just act like partners at work, but it's very brief," Brennan was honest with him, "because I know why you have to pretend. It's not because you're ashamed of me, or don't want to be with me, it's because you _do_ want to be with me. As partners and lovers."

"I don't want you to doubt me," Booth's facial expression was slightly concerned.

"I don't," Brennan promised, "it's me. It's because I'm still trying to process the way you make me feel. I hate being vulnerable, Booth, so as soon as I find an excuse to doubt you, I do, subconsciously of course. I know you're not going to hurt me, but the back of my mind is still trying to convince me that it's a possibility. When the doubt does come, it's over within a matter of seconds. I know you love me, Booth. And I love you too."

"I know," Booth pressed his lips softly to hers, "I know, Bones."

Keeping her chin rested on his shoulder, Brennan put one hand on the back of his head, making sure that he wasn't going to just pull away after his peck on the lips. Taking her silent signal, the, what was supposed to be, small kiss turned into a long and tender one. They both parted their lips, letting their tongues mingle, but neither made it into anything sexual.

"You never doubted me?" Brennan mumbled into his mouth as they kissed, itching to ask her question, but not wanting to break the kiss.

"No," Booth responded proudly, speaking when they're lips would detach to catch a breath, "never. Not even once."

Brennan finally ended the kiss, giving his bottom lip a gentle nibble when it was over before she ran her fingers gently down his back. Picking up on her signal, Booth turned onto his side, pulling her close so they could wrap their arms around each other. Brennan rested her head against the pillow, pressing her forehead to his as she drew in a satisfied breath, a small smile on her face.

"I love you," she whispered once again, by this point, having lost count of how many times she'd informed him of that in that one night.

"You told me that already," Booth laughed softly, looking into her eyes, their foreheads pressed affectionately together.

"I feel as if it's not enough," she informed him, "what are three words? Why do people rest so much importance on three words?"

"It's enough," he promised, "and I love you too, Bones."

Booth tucked a lock of her hair that fell into her face behind her ear, closing his eyes as he just listened to her steady breathing, feeling her breath on his skin.

"Are you going to sleep?" She asked, her voice gentle, just incase he was.

"No," Booth shook his head, "it's already six in the morning. What's the point?"

"You're going to be exhausted tomorrow."

"That's what coffee's for, Bones."

"I didn't get much sleep either."

"Then go to sleep."

Brennan shook her head, the skin of her forehead brushing against his when she did.

"I want to stay awake with you, like this," she admitted.

"Bones, you don't have to do that," he promised her.

"I want to," she assured him, "I don't need, nor do I desire, sleep right now."

"Bones..."

"No," she slipped her arm out from around his waist to press a finger to his lips, "I don't want to talk anymore, Booth. I just want to lay here with you and, appreciate you. We don't do that enough. We're either talking, or having intercourse. We never just take the time to, do this. I could never do this with Sully, or Michael. We never just laid in bed and looked at each other, held each other close, listened to one another's breathing. I can do that with you, and I enjoy it."

"Look at you, trying to romance me," Booth gave her a cocky smile, "you want to appreciate me. Is that because you think I'm gorgeous? Do you want to feel every detail of my divine body? Is that what this is about, Temperance?"

"I most certainly am not trying to romance you," Brennan declared, her mouth slightly agape, not really sure how to respond to that, "and you have a very proportional body with pronounced features and a magnificent skull structure. So I guess if you want to use the word 'gorgeous' you're more than welcome. And as for feeling the details of your body, I've already done that enough for one night."

"You think I'm sexy," he joked, the cocky smirk still present on his face.

"I am sexually attracted to you, yes," she said, shamelessly.

"So then, do it, Doctor Brennan. Appreciate my body."

"Well there's several ways I can do that," she said, a sly smile coming to her lips as she unwrapped her arms from around him, putting her hands on his chest, "there's the looking aspect, and then there's the feeling aspect. I think I'm leaning more towards the feeling today though," she trailed her hands slowly down his chest, feeling every curve and imperfection of his torso, "your body is very symmetrical," she commented, "and your skin is naturally soft, which is always a good thing," she raked her fingernails over his skin, "is that a pleasurable feeling?"

"Mmm," he purred, in response to her question, "is this foreplay?"

"No," Brennan whispered, raking her fingernails up to his chest, "it's body appreciation. Have you been listening?"

"Yes, I've been listening," he chuckled, "but this feels a lot like foreplay."

"That's because you're a sexual being," she responded, "does this make you excited?" She asked, wrapping her arms back around him so she could scratch gently down his back.

"Bones," he swallowed, "you really need to stop."

"Why?" She asked, innocently, "I'm just appreciating you."

"Because if you keep it up I'm going to need a cold shower before work."

"Am I arousing you?" Brennan asked, taking great pleasure in teasing him as she nipped gently at his ear, making him regret every time he teased her in the past.

"Yes," he admitted, shamelessly.

"Good," she smirked triumphantly, glancing out the window in his room to see that the once dark sky was getting a little lighter, indicating that morning was underway, "I'd suggest 'round two', but it's already morning. Too bad."

"You're a tease," he had to chuckle, as she unwrapped her arms from around him and rolled back to her side of the bed, the sheets feeling cold underneath her.

"Mission accomplished," she smirked, wrapping a sheet around her as she stood up from the bed, touching his shoulder delicately before she went into the bathroom and ran the water for her shower.


	28. Therapy With Sweets: Intimacy

**A/N: I'm getting the feeling that you're starting to hate me. xD I haven't been getting as many reviews lately, but I still greatly appreciate the ones I get and the ones I received in the past. So gratias to everyone. =] I don't want you to all think I'm being ungrateful, because I really do appreciate all the feedback I get. **

**So, here's another therapy chapter. Don't ask why, but I just felt like writing another therapy chapter today, and I figured this was a fine place to stick it. =]**

Therapy With Sweets: Intimacy

Sweets cleared his throat as the three of them sat in their usual silence, all just glancing around the room.

"So you two have nothing to talk about?" He asked, somewhat surprised by this.

Brennan shook her head, as Booth's eyes just focused on the floor.

"I'm finding that difficult to believe, Doctor Brennan," Sweets informed her, "it's always something with you two. Nothing you want to discuss? Nothing that's been getting better in your relationship? Nothing that's getting worse in your relationship?"

Brennan shook her head again, glancing at Booth, who was focused on the floor. Sweets huffed softly, making sure they couldn't pick up on his irritation at their lack of willingness to communicate with him. He pressed his hands together and leaned forward, taking in a deep breath before he spoke to them.

"How about this?" He tried, "I want both of you to think of something you are satisfied with in your relationship, and something you think could use improvement. We'll discuss why you're satisfied with what you're satisfied with, and how you can improve the other thing."

Sweets was finding it a little humorous that their partner's therapy had turned into couple's therapy, but his job was to make sure they could work well together, and now that they were romantically involved, that became an important piece in the puzzle. If things went bad in their relationship, and they split up, they wouldn't be able to work well together as partners anymore, so Sweets felt it was his responsibility to prevent things from going bad.

"Doctor Brennan, how about you go first?" He asked.

Brennan's eyes had been focused on the material of the couch until Sweets grabbed her attention back to him. She tilted her head slightly up to look at him seriously as she spoke.

"Sex," she said, simply.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Sex. That's what I'm satisfied with."

Sweets drew in another deep breath, letting out a sigh at her answer, while Booth finally tore his gaze from the floor to glance up at her, a cocky half smile on his face.

_Why am I such an idiot? _He thought to himself, _I walked right into that one._

"Um, okay, Doctor Brennan," he cleared his throat again, feeling just the slightest bit uncomfortable, "would you care to explain why that department is satisfying to you?"

_Jeez! Filter, Sweets, filter!_

"Booth is an exceptional lover," Brennan shrugged, as if talking about this with Sweets was completely normal, "he's very considerate in bed. He knows how to obtain the balance between tender and steamy, which, of course, results in great sex. And the fact that he can keep up with my sex drive is quite impressive. I tend crave intercourse a lot. I'm a sexual being."

Booth stifled a chuckle when he saw the mortified look on Sweets' face.

"Any more detail you'd like to add, Doctor Brennan?" Sweets asked, sarcastically.

Not picking up on his sarcasm, Brennan continued.

"Well you know that belt buckle he always wears? It doesn't lie, Doctor Sweets."

"Woah, woah, Bones!" Booth finally spoke up, glancing at Sweets, who had his head in his hands, glowing red, as Brennan just smiled in satisfaction, confused at Booth's reaction, "that's personal! You don't just go around telling people about what's under my belt buckle!"

"I thought men enjoyed bragging about their size?" Brennan asked, completely clueless as to what she did wrong, "usually men base who is the alpha male in the group over things like that. I thought, if I shared with Sweets, it would boost your confidence in your masculinity."

"Hey, hey, I'm confident with my masculinity," he told her, "I'm 'the man', if you will."

"I don't know what that means."

"Well, I don't like to brag, but I'm kind of a master with the ladies."

He confidently brushed a piece of lint off the shoulder of his suit jacket, relaxing his back against the couch, the cocky smile never leaving his face. Brennan simply snorted at his comment, rolling her eyes at how highly he thought of himself.

"If you're so 'great' with the 'ladies', why did it take you four years to get me?"

"Ouch," Sweets commented, "cold," he looked at Booth, slightly intimidated by the look he was giving him, "sorry," he mumbled, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"Because you barely even count as a lady," Booth responded to Brennan's question, "you're all squinty, and science-y and stuff. Ladies usually don't like playing with dead things."

"What happened to your whole speech about how you don't want someone generic?"

"I _don't_ want anyone generic, which is why I'm with _you_. You really suck at this, Bones."

"I'm willing to take your words with a flake of pepper, because I know you're just in a bad mood due to your lack of sleep."

"_Grain_ of _salt_, Bones, _grain of salt_," he sighed, putting his head in his hands, "and I'm not cranky 'due to my lack of sleep', I just don't want to be here," he looked at Sweets again, "listen, Sweets, I like you and everything, but Bones and I don't need therapy. We're perfect."

"Things don't seem very perfect," Sweets commented.

"This is not a fair evaluation on our relationship, because Booth is sleep deprived, which is making him snippy. He didn't go to sleep last night. I got a few hours of sleep before he came home, but he got no sleep what so ever, he's simply running on coffee."

"Bones, this has nothing to do with the fact that I didn't sleep," he huffed.

"Sleep is very crucial to the human body," Brennan informed him.

"That's great, Bones. Thank you, for that fun fact."

"I'm only trying to help."

"Well do me a favor and don't. If you want to help, you just won't talk about sleep."

"Would you rather me go back to discussing our sex life?"

"No, Bones. I wouldn't."

Sweets quickly changed the subject, since he could see that this was about to escalate into a full blown Brennan and Booth argument, and some of those could last a long while.

"Okay, Doctor Brennan, you're satisfied with the intimacy. Now what do you think you two can work on in your relationship?"

"Am I allowed to say? Or is Booth going to snap at me again?" She shot him a dirty look.

Brennan felt slightly guilty when he only gave her an apologetic, and incredibly charming, half smile, silently apologizing for being nasty to her before. She subtly scooted closer to him, making sure Sweets didn't notice, since she knew he'd ask a million questions, and pressed her leg gently against his, feeling the warmth of his skin through his dress pants against the skin of her leg that was exposed by her skirt.

"Something I think we can improve on," she pondered the question, glancing from Booth to Sweets, not really wanting to say anything they could improve on, in fear that he'd be insulted, "um, something we could work on. Maybe we can work on the bickering, even though I'm not entirely sure that any amount of therapy could cure our need to bicker constantly."

Sweets glanced up at the ceiling in thought, nodding his head in approval.

"Agent Booth?" He asked.

"I'm satisfied with the intimacy as well," Booth nodded in agreement, "but I don't just mean the sex. I mean, the emotional intimacy too. Like, last night," he paused when he saw Sweets' facial expression, "don't worry, pal, I'm not going to be graphic like Bones over here was," he promised before he continued, "anyway, last night, after, that, we just laid together for about fifteen minutes, and didn't say anything. I don't want you to think that our relationship is purely physical, Sweets, because it's not. It's so much more than just that."

Brennan beamed up at him, her eyes shimmering as she stared at him in admiration. Sometimes, just the way he worded things, made them seem ten times more romantic and serious than they would have been if said by someone else.

"I love you, Booth," she said, gently, immediately regretting it when she remembered that Sweets was still in the room, since she'd felt embarrassed about declaring her love for him in front of other people, even Angela.

"Doctor Brennan, telling Agent Booth the way you feel about him is nothing to be embarrassed of," Sweets assured her, when he saw the blush rise on her cheeks, "you don't have to feel ashamed to admit it in front of me. I already knew. You didn't have to say it. I could sense it in your body language, the way you look at him, the way you smile at each other."

"I hate psychology," Brennan reminded him, completely ignoring everything he just said, as she leaned her head against Booth's shoulder and tilted her head to look at him adoringly, getting completely lost in his eyes, to the point where Sweets might as well have been invisible.

"So what are you prescribing, doctor?" Booth asked, shifting his gaze from Brennan back to Sweets when he spoke to him, "an hour of cuddling a day? An hour of _silence_ a day? Because I think silence could be a pretty good solution to the bickering problem."

"Not exactly," Sweets shook his head, bracing himself for their reaction before he spoke, "I think you two should go a short period of time without intimacy. About, two to three weeks."

Booth cracked a smile as he glanced down at Brennan, and they shared a small laugh.

"Yeah, that's so not going to happen," Booth chuckled, amused that he would even propose the idea, knowing the two of them the way he did.

Brennan nodded in agreement as she laughed lightly as well.

"Doctor Sweets, not trying to disrespect you and what you do, but that's not a very logical solution to our bickering. When we're having intercourse is the only time we _don't_ bicker."

"Exactly," Sweets had a proud smile on his face as he clasped his hands together in excitement, "that's the way you two deal with disagreements. As soon as you start to argue, you turn it into intimacy, or even just kissing. That's masking the problem, not solving it. I believe that if you two go a few weeks without sex, you'll be able to discuss the source of the argument, instead of just taking every argument into the bedroom to 'solve' it."

"I'd much prefer our way of solving relationship problems," Brennan muttered.

Booth nodded in agreement.

"I'm strongly recommending it," Sweets said, since he could tell by the way they exchanged glances that they were just not going to listen to him and do whatever they wanted anyway, "in order for this relationship to stay solid and move to a higher level, you need to get passed any worries and problems you have with each other. And no, Doctor Brennan, having sex is not an effective form of problem solving."

The three of them grew silent again as Booth and Brennan exchanged glances again, both of them surprised to see that the other was actually considering it.

"So no sex? For three weeks?" Booth asked.

"Yes, Agent Booth," Sweets confirmed.

"No sex at all?"

"No."

"Can't we get like, two free passes? Each?"

"That would be defeating the purpose of the therapy, Agent Booth."

Booth looked at Brennan again, making sure she was okay with this.

"Can we at least kiss?"

"Yeah, of course," Sweets said, examining the expression on his face before he pointed an accusing finger at him and continued, "but _no_ foreplay. I saw that glimmer in your eyes. No sex means nothing of the sexual nature. No sensual groping sessions in Agent Booth's office, and as soon as either of you start to feel aroused, end it. Just, cut it off."

"Booth," Brennan complained, "this isn't going to be very enjoyable."

"It's just a suggestion, not an order," Sweets reminded them, "if you don't want to-"

"No, we want to," Booth assured him, "three weeks. That's nothing. That might as well be, a day. I have devastatingly good self control."

Brennan laughed and rolled her eyes playfully, as Sweets smiled in pride at their decision, just that small moment of parental pride reminding him of why he felt like he was babysitting children during their sessions. Booth stood up from the couch, holding out his hand to Brennan to help her up, not minding when she ignored it and stood up on her own, since she was never one to let people help her.

"I'll see you guys next week," Sweets said, as Brennan opened the door and stepped out of his office, "nothing sexual," he reminded them, when they stepped out of the office.

"Three weeks," Booth promised, holding up three fingers for Sweets before he got a nod of approval, and shut the office door behind him, having to wonder what he just got himself into with this agreement.

_Three weeks, without sex, _he thought to himself, his mind flickering to the way Brennan always teased,_ if I live through these three weeks, I deserve my face on a coin. _


	29. Don't Call Me Baby

**A/N: First of all, I want to apologize if I came off sounding ungrateful in the last AN. I guess I should watch how I word things, 'cause when I looked back on it, I was like 'Jeez, I hope no one thinks I don't appreciate their comments', because I totally do. I read, and appreciate every one of them. =] So sincerely thanks to the people who reviewed, and the people who've done any of that other good stuff.**

**I laughed when I saw that pretty much everyone doubts that Brennan will be able to last the whole three weeks. xD But what's a story without a challenge, eh? **

**Oh, and I'm apologizing for any grammatical errors, again, because I wrote this late, and I'm pretty wiped out. It would have been finished earlier, but I got a tad bit distracted by South Park (which I don't own either, incase they want to sue me now xD). I'm trying to edit it good, but I might just glance past a mistake if it's small in my tiredness. **

Chapter Twenty-Nine:

"Don't Call Me Baby"

Brennan was sitting at the desk in her office, tapping her fingers against the keys of her computer in frustration as she tried to think of something to write for her novel. Scratching the novel idea, she opened up a new, blank, file on her computer, starting to type everything that was on her mind, the words seeming to flow effortlessly onto the screen.

"_I don't know what I'm going to do. It's only day two of abstinence and I'm already losing my mind. I believe knowing that we're not allowed just makes the idea that much more appealing. It's like, every time I've looked at him since we left that office, it's the only thing on my mind. I can't dare say the word, because that would only get me excited for something that's not going to happen. Sweets. Booth should shoot him. I-_"

Brennan was startled by the sound of someone knocking on her door. Quickly minimizing the page, she called out to the person outside her door.

"Come in," she called, closing her lap top to make sure that there was no possible way anyone could see the file, since there had been instances where her computer brought a window back up that she tried to minimize.

"Bones!" Booth's cheerful voice was the last one she wanted to hear at the moment, as she drew in a deep breath before he popped into her office, shutting the door behind him, "there you are, my partner in fighting crime. Who are you hiding from in here?"

_You_.

"No one," Brennan lied, shaking her head, mentally scolding her mind to shut up, "I was just, working on my novel. I think I'm having what they call 'writer's block'. The ideas sound good up here," she pressed a finger to her head, "but they don't translate into words."

"It happens to the best of us," he shrugged, taking a seat comfortably on her couch, stretching out across it, his feet hanging slightly off the edge, since he was just a bit too tall for the small office sized piece of furniture.

_Oh, that couch. The last time Booth was on that couch was when-_, Brennan stopped her thoughts before they could develop fully.

"You don't write," she reminded him, trying, to the best of her ability, to push the thoughts far from her mind, "so I don't believe it happens to you."

"Mmm, tomato, tomahto," Booth waved his hand at her comment before putting his arms behind his head and closing his eyes, making a small sound of comfort when his eyes shut.

_He's really not making this any easier._

"Don't you have a job?" She laughed weakly.

"Mhm," Booth nodded, only responding to her question with a small sound, "you know even Special Agent In Charge, Seeley Booth, gets a lunch break."

"Well why would you choose to spend your lunch break here instead of, actually eating lunch?" Brennan asked, biting the inside of her lip as she squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her head towards the ceiling, grateful that he was closing his eyes as well.

"Because I'm not hungry," he said, as if that were obvious, "and I like you."

"You like _me_ or you like napping on my couch for a half hour?" She questioned, her eyes fluttering open once she was able to get her emotions under control.

"What is this, Twenty Questions?" Booth asked, opening one eye to peek at her curiously from where he was laying across her couch, "you don't really seem to want me here. If you want me to leave I can go nap somewhere else."

"No, of course I don't mind that you're here," she said, looking at him promisingly, "I like you too."

"Good," he smiled a Booth-y grin and closed his eyes again, his face looking peaceful as his head rested against his arms, which were propping him up against the arm of the couch.

From the way his arms were positioned, Brennan could see the tattoos on the inside of his forearms peeking out from under the white button down shirt and black suit jacket that was over it, his watch covering the majority of the visible ink on his right wrist. Unable to resist the appeal of his tattoos, Brennan stood from her chair and quietly crept over to him. She sat on the floor in front of the couch quietly, smoothing down her dress pants before she gently tugged his left arm out from under his head, and held it in one of her hands, using the index finger on the other to trace over the black ink of his tattoo.

"Mmm," he chuckled, making the small sound in a raspy, half asleep, voice, "what are you doing, Bones?"

His voice was light and playful, even with the rasp from his relaxation behind it as Brennan pushed the sleeves of his shirt up a little bit, so she could have access to the rest of the ink. Without responding to his question, she just traced over it, resisting the urge to press her lips to the ink that she loved so very much.

"I think I want to get a tattoo," she declared, her fingers still moving over his skin.

"Temperance Brennan wants a tattoo?" He asked, the surprise notable in his voice, even though his eyes remained closed, "what happened to your whole philosophy about changing the naturalness of your body?"

"Well I'm not changing my core architecture," Brennan shrugged, letting go of his arm as she shifted so her back was pressing against the couch and she leaned her head back to brush against his side, closing her eyes "it's only the skin. It's like, when I put on make up."

"Except make up isn't permanent," Booth reminded her, running his fingers through her hair when her head lolled back to lean against the side of his torso"what would you even get? An accurately labeled skeleton across your back?"

"No, of course not. Why would I do that?" Brennan asked, not picking up on his joke, as she continued, "I was thinking about getting a dolphin on my scapu- shoulder blade," she used the simple word for Booth, "for my mother."

Booth felt slightly guilty about making a joke when she brought up her mother.

"That's a great idea, Bones," he said softly, moving his fingers that were running through her hair over slightly, so they brushed against the sides of her face, causing her to shiver involuntarily and blush a faint pinkish color.

Brennan's eyes fluttered open to look at him, seeing the small half smile that played at the corner of his mouth as he ran his fingers gently over the soft skin of her cheek. She closed her eyes to embrace the feeling, a small smile coming to her lips as she sighed.

"Mmm," she mumbled, the smile lighting up her face as his cool fingers touched the soft skin, "only you, Booth, can provoke such a reaction just by touching my face."

"Well, Bones, I have my ways," he responded confidently, his hands slipping behind her neck as he tilted her face to him slightly with his thumbs, pecking her lips softly.

Brennan kept the smile on her face, her lips tingling when they felt his.

"Mmm, Booth," she laughed lightly, "how long is your lunch break?"

"What part of 'in charge' did you not get?" He asked, looking at her quizzically, even though she had her eyes shut, "my lunch break is over either when I get a call telling me to come back, or just whenever I want it to be over."

"I want you to stay here," she informed him, "I like it when you're here."

"Do you?" He asked, playfully, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple.

"Didn't I just say that?" She asked back, opening one eye to peek at him curiously.

"Joking, Bones," he promised.

"Oh," Brennan's smile returned, as she closed her eye again and just let him run his fingers over the features of her face, finding it surprisingly relaxing.

Brennan had a feeling of pride, since she was with Booth, letting him touch and kiss her, and still wasn't feeling as if she were going to lose control of her emotions. Every stroke of his fingers was delicate, and even when he gave her a kiss, it was very tender, like one a brother would give to a sister, or a father would give to a daughter. And, to top it off, they hadn't bickered in the time period they were together, which may not have been impressive for most couples, but was certainly impressive for them.

"Hey, Booth," she said, making sure her voice was soft, so it didn't ruin the soft mood, "you know what I just realized?"

"What?"

"We haven't bickered at all today."

"You're right. We haven't."

"Do you think Sweets' idea is working?"

Booth had to laugh softly at her question.

"It's only been two days, Bones. We won't know if it's working until a little later on in the process. Sweets is good at his job, but he's not magic."

"Well it's very obvious that he isn't magic. There's no such thing as magic."

"Oh, Bones," Booth sighed, shaking his head at her rationality, "you and your squinty-ness. Have a little faith."

"I do not believe in things that don't exist. And that wasn't a shot at your religion."

"I know."

There was another short silence between them before Brennan spoke again, his fingers never stopping the caressing of her face.

"Do you think if we go this whole week without problems, Sweets will let us stop the 'treatment' early? Because I don't know how much longer I can take this. Especially when you're acting so romantic."

"Jeez, Bones, it's only been two days," Booth laughed, "if you're already feeling urges by day two, I'd hate to be you by the third week."

"I can't help the way my body reacts when I'm around you," Brennan complained, "it's only you, Booth. I never craved intercourse this much with any of my other partners. Yet, every time I'm around you, my body just craves you. Like, if I don't have you, I'm not going to be able to function properly."

"It's because I still have that 'new lover' smell," he told her.

"I don't know what that means."

"It means that we're still kind of new to this whole romantic relationship with each other thing. We're so used to having that sexual tension, but not being able to act on it, that now that we can and do act on it, we like to, take advantage."

"So, you're saying because we're a newly developed relationship, I want to have intercourse with you every chance I get?"

"Basically."

"So it won't be like this forever?"

"Nah, it should pass in a month or two."

"Do _you_ want to have intercourse with_ me_ all the time?"

"I...don't feel comfortable discussing that with you."

Brennan opened her eyes and smirked when she saw the faint blush on his cheeks.

"You do?" She asked, her face lighting up, glad she wasn't just becoming a sex addict.

"Well you're a very sexy, charming, young woman who wants to sleep with me. Do the math, Bones."

Brennan reached up to touch the line of his jaw softly with the tips of her fingers, guiding his face down to meet hers, as she leaned up to press her lips gently to his. Booth smiled under her lips as his hands cradled her face, keeping it steady as they kissed. After a couple seconds of just feeling the sensation of one's lips on the other, Booth disconnected their lips to kiss the spots of her jawbone and neck that he could reach from their position tenderly, making it the least sexual that he could. Brennan gasped slightly, the feeling of even the softest kiss from him on her neck bringing all the prior feelings back. She bit down hard on her lip to hold in a moan, since she knew if she got aroused, he'd stop, since that was Sweets' rule. When she finally couldn't hold it in anymore, she let just a soft, angelic moan escape her lips, her fingers wrapping gently in his hair. As she predicted, Booth pulled away as soon as the moan escaped.

"Booth," she complained.

"I'm sorry," he laughed lightly, "but you were moaning. Not allowed, baby."

"Don't call me baby," she grumbled, annoyed with him now.

"Come on, Bones," Booth chuckled, "I didn't make the rules. Sweets did."

"Screw the rules," she scoffed.

"Never thought I'd hear those words leave _your_ mouth."

Brennan just shrugged, even though her words surprised her as well.

"Since when do you listen to Sweets anyway?" She asked, "you think he's twelve. What would a twelve year old know about relationships?" Brennan turned around and shifted onto her knees to face him, taking his face gently between her hands, "lets have sex. Right here, right now. Forget Sweets and his therapy."

"Woah, Bones," Booth's eyes widened at her request, his cheeks feeling slightly warm, "isn't this just the tiniest bit inappropriate?"

"That's what's _exciting_ about it," Brennan had that glimmer that she always got in her eyes when she was doing something even just the slightest bit rebellious, "it's _completely_ inappropriate, which would make for some exceptionally hot sex, don't you think? Come on, Booth," she tugged on his tie, "I'll be the anthropologist and you can be my grad student. I'll teach you all," she kissed his mandible, "about," she kissed his neck, "the human," she kissed his clavicle, "body," she kissed his fabric covered chest.

Booth used every bit of self control he had to sit up, escaping her grip, and stand from the couch, making sure she got the message that it wasn't going to happen.

"We can't," he said, even though, in his mind, the only thing he could see was him having his way with her on that couch, pulling her clothes off, with his teeth, to be exact "in three weeks. Then you can be my anthropology teacher, okay?"

"Who says I'm going to want to be your teacher in three weeks?" She challenged.

_Jesus Christ, just do it, Booth _his mind screamed, _this is Bones we're talking about. If you can pass up sex with Bones, then you're definitely gay. Bones wants to have hot and kinky sex, and you're going to say no? What kind of guy are you? _

"Three weeks," he reminded her, helping her to her feet, "in three weeks, we can do whatever you want, Miss Brennan," he took the lapels of her lab coat to fix it for her.

"Fine," Brennan sighed, knowing it would probably be best for them to just listen to Sweets this time around, since they'd never hear the end of it if they cheated on his therapy.

"Thank you," Booth smiled, pecking her lips gently, "and do me a favor. Don't do that anymore."

"Why?" She asked, running her fingers over the fabric of his shirt.

"Because turning you down was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do."

Brennan laughed softly as she fixed his jacket for him now.

"You were in the army and you're an FBI agent. I'm fairly positive that you've had to do harder things than turn me down for intercourse."

Not responding to how literal she was, Booth just pecked her lips again, before leaving her office. Brennan sighed at the situation, and went to go get a pair of gloves to work on a limbo case, when she heard the door open again, causing her to jump and let out a soft gasp.

"You're still coming to the baseball game with me and Parker on Saturday, right?" Booth's voice asked, half of his body in the office and half in the lab.

"Yes," she said, catching her breath from the scare, "it's a date."

"Great. I'll call you if we get anything new on the 'Wife from Hell'."

"Booth," she warned, "we don't know if it was her yet."

Without responding, Booth shut the door to her office again, leaving Brennan standing there, slightly annoyed for a few seconds, before she got over it, and went to get back to work.


	30. Let Me Take Care Of You

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews =] I love reading your thoughts. Some of you make me laugh. xD And thank you for all those other good things as well, such as alerts, favorites, ect. =]**

**As a token of my gratitude, I've rewarded you all with fluff. You're welcome. xD Well, the beginning isn't fluffy but-you know, just read it. ;]**

**Also, school is starting on September 2nd for me, so the updates will probably be less freqent, but I'm going to try my best to update as much as I can. **

Chapter Thirty:

"Let Me Take Care Of You"

Since Cam was feeling in a good mood that Tuesday afternoon, she decided to let the 'squints' leave early and take the evening off. While most took the opportunity to go out, maybe drink a little, and have a good time, Brennan took it to have some much needed relaxation time, just stretched out across the couch in sweat pants and a t-shirt. She also took the opportunity to watch a baseball game on Booth's television to try and understand the game better for when she was going to go with Booth and Parker. Pillow under her head and blanket over her body, she tried the best she could to follow along as she observed the game.

"Sully, I just walked through the door, I'm officially home, and not talking about this anymore," Booth's voice sounded highly annoyed as he stormed through the front door, startling Brennan a little bit as she peeked up at him from where she was laying on the couch, "yes, I know what I'm doing, Sul..." he paused as a voice came in from the other end of his phone, "I know. She's not leaving my sight until I get your okay."

Booth slammed his phone shut with much more force than was necessary before he tossed it on the coffee table and pulled his suit jacket off in a swift, angry, motion. Brennan was highly confused as to what was going in, but decided not to say anything yet, as she clicked the television off.

"God _dammit_," he seethed, whipping his jacket onto the back of the seat as he attempted to pace off his boiling anger.

Finally, giving into temptation, Brennan decided to speak up.

"You seem like something's upsetting you," she observed.

"No, Bones, nothing's upsetting me. I'm just throwing things and pacing back and forth because I have _nothing_ better to do," the sarcasm in his voice was sharp, as he continued to pace the floor, seeming to calm down the slightest bit as he did.

"Well you don't have to shout at me," Brennan's attempt at being understanding was thrown away as soon as he snapped at her, and she sat up on the couch in irritation "I didn't do anything to you. You're obviously angry at something or someone, but I'm fairly confident that it isn't me."

Booth let out a long breath as he clutched the back of one of the chairs in the living room, his knuckles turning white, as he shut his eyes and leaned over the back of the seat, his biceps pushing against the fabric of his dress shirt.

"You're right, I'm sorry for yelling at you," he said, his voice lower now that he calmed himself down slightly, as he opened his eyes to look at her, "I really am."

"It's okay," Brennan shrugged, "but what are you so upset about? Talk to me, Booth. I can be an exceptionally good listener if whatever you're talking about keeps my interest."

Booth drew in a long breath again, letting go of the chair as he just leaned against it, letting the breath out slowly and calmly.

"Mara Muerte," Booth muttered angrily.

"What _about_Mara Muerte?" Brennan was slightly annoyed that she had to pry information out of him, as if he didn't want to tell her what was going on, "we haven't even seen any of them in two years. If this another one of your irrational fears?"

"No, Bones, it's not," Booth unintentionally snapped at her again, "they're screwing with the FBI again. Why they decided to screw with us two years after the last time I spoke to Villeda, I'm not really sure about. But they are. Only this time, they're going after you," he pointed at her, "and they're going after me," he pointed to himself, "now, I'm a sniper trained FBI agent. It's you I'm worried about."

"Booth, they're not going to do anything to me," she promised, "didn't you tell Villeda you'd kill him if anything happened to me?"

"Well apparently he doesn't care anymore."

"And if Mara Muerte is trying to mess with the FBI again, why aren't we on the case?"

"Because that's exactly what they want. If we're on the case, they can get to us easier."

"So what? If they try anything, you'll just shoot them."

"That's not how it works, Bones," Booth's voice was serious as he went aroundthe seat he was behind to kneel in front of where she was sitting on the couch, resting a hand on her knee, "the FBI doesn't want to risk anything happening to either of us. And _I_ don't want to risk anything happening to _you_. Sully's undercover. He's working the case with another agent so we don't have to. Please, Bones, just this once. Let me take care of you."

Brennan put her hand over his, biting the inside of her lip nervously when he looked seriously into her eyes.

"Fine," she mumbled, "but can I make a request?"

Booth's serious expression turned into a half smile.

"Go ahead."

"I think, under these circumstances, the rational thing to do would be to give me a gun. For self defense, of course," Brennan said seriously.

"Bones, I'm not giving you a gun," Booth had to chuckle lightly at her attempt to get him to give her the gun she'd been begging him for since they met.

"Why not?" Brennan complained, "I'm an excellent shot, and I would only use it in case of emergency. I would solemnly swear to only shoot if my life was in danger. And besides I_ had _a gun. A big gun. But you took it away from me."

"Why not?" Booth repeated her question, laughing lightly again, as Brennan looked at him with a confused expression, "Because you don't _need_ a gun. If anyone needs shooting I'll be the one to do it. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Booth," Brennan complained, her shoulders slumping, "I can take care of myself."

"Not when there's an entire El Salvadorian gang with you on their hit list," he responded, his voice completely serious, "I'm not screwing around, Bones. You're not leaving this house without asking me first and getting me to come with you. Hell, you're not even opening the front door without my okay. Are we clear?"

"Booth," she complained again.

"Promise me, Bones," he lowered his voice, his eyes ice cold.

"I promise," Brennan whispered, leaning down to press her forehead against his, "even though I'm quite capable of taking care of myself. I told you before, I'm willing to let you take care of me, but only this once. After this is over, I'm going back to being independent."

Booth smiled lightly and kissed her lips softly.

"Deal," he chuckled softly, pressing his lips back to hers after the word.

Brennan smiled through the kiss as she tugged on his tie to pull him up to the couch with her. Following her lead, Booth took a seat on the couch next to her, letting her wrap her small arms around his neck to hold him close. Brennan nibbled softly on his bottom lip when Booth went to break the kiss, making him laugh lightly at the sensation.

"Bones, can you give me one of your magic shoulder rubs with your magic knuckles?" He asked hopefully.

Brennan laughed as she stood from the couch and Booth gave her a curious look.

"Hello? Bones?"

"I'll be right back," she promised, touching his shoulder gently, "close your eyes."

Booth shut his eyes when she told him to, mentally praying that she wasn't going to do anything arousing, since he had a hard enough time rejecting her earlier. He waited patiently, resisting the urge to open his eyes when he felt her sit down on the couch behind him, one leg hanging off the side of the couch and one tucked into an Indian style stance. Booth swallowed when he felt her start to undo the buttons on his shirt.

"Bones, what are ya' doing?" He asked, keeping his eyes closed.

"Shh," Brennan whispered, pressing a soft finger to his lips, "the whole point of a back rub is that it's supposed to be relaxing. If you're talking incessantly, it won't be. I swear, Booth, I'm not going to do anything sexual."

Booth was going to respond, but stayed quiet as she asked, feeling her slide the shirt down to his elbows. Brennan pressed one soft kiss to his left shoulder before she popped open the top of the baby oil and put some on her hand, closing the bottle, putting it in Booth's lap, and quickly pressing her hands to his shoulders before any oil could slip through her fingers and ruin his good shirt.

"Mmm," Booth groaned in contentment, his eyes staying closed in satisfaction, even when she allowed him to open them, rubbing her hands together so the oil was on both now "Oh, Bones, that's good."

"Someone once informed me that a massage with oil is much more satisfying than a massage without," Brennan informed him, kneading the now slick and oiled skin of his shoulders with her fingers, "and I remembered to bring my baby oil with me, so I figured, since you asked for a massage, I'd give you one that would satisfy you fully."

"Well it certainly is," he paused to arch his shoulders in relief, "satisfying."

"Are my 'magic knuckles' relieving your stress?" She asked.

"Definitely," Booth chuckled lightly, groaning when her thumbs pressed just the right amount of pressure into his shoulder blades, "oh God, Bones, where did you learn to do this?"

"I believe I answered that question to you already," Brennan said, nuzzling the skin of his neck softly with her nose, "I can feel the tension in your muscles being released. I told you, you have to let me do this more often. It's apparent that you're very stressed."

"Most people who are being hunted by a violent street gang would be just a little stressed," he reminded her, "you, Bones, are fearless. Not all of us are like that."

"Sh. Enough," Brennan silenced him, pressing her finger back to his lips as she moved her hands up to knead the back of his neck with her oily hands, "no more talking."

Booth only responded to her with a small sound of appreciation, drawing in a deep breath at the sensation. He focused on each place she touched him. His neck, his shoulders, his shoulder blades, the spot right under his shoulder blades. He only shivered slightly when her arms tucked under his, picked the bottle of baby oil back up, and put some more on her hands before she slid them slowly, and unintentionally seductively down his chest, rubbing it into his skin with her palms before she started to knead the skin of his tones chest.

"Bones," he groaned, feeling her slip her arms back out from under his, his eyes fluttering open at the lack of contact, "where are you going?"

"Turn please," was the only way she responded, as he turned to sit normally, his back against the couch, "and close your eyes again. It makes me feel uncomfortable when you look at me like that."

Once his eyes were closed again, Brennan straddled his lap, pressing her hands back to his oily chest, continuing to knead the skin.

"I find it much easier to massage your chest when you're facing me," she said.

"Mmm," was the only way he could respond, as his head lolled back in pleasure, his heart beating a million miles a minute in his chest.

"Your heart is pounding," she observed, "relax."

"It's kind of hard to relax when you're touching me like that," Booth chuckled.

Brennan giggled lightly, wiping the rest of the oil on her hands off on the skin of his torso, making sure to knead the skin extra slow, since she knew that was his favorite spot. Booth's lips turned up into a satisfied smile as she massaged his skin with her 'magic fingers'. He opened his eyes, only to look into his lap, as he slid her shirt up to her rib cage gently, put the oil in his hands now, and smoothed it across the creamy skin of her stomach.

"Booth," she complained playfully, when the oil touched the bottom of her shirt, wetting the fabric.

"Bones," he chuckled, "doesn't this feel nice?"

He kneaded the tender, oily, skin of her stomach gently when he asked the question.

"Oh, Booth, you're perfect," she moaned angelically, quickly grabbing his wrists before he could stop, remembering Sweets' rules, "no. I'm not aroused, it just feels good."

Booth just laughed softly as he leaned into her, capturing her lips in his as their hands continued to slide across the other's skin. Brennan giggled as they playfully pulled each other close, pulling his hands off her stomach to shower them in more oil, his hands immediately going back to her waist, but slipping around her hips to the small of her back this time. She giggled again as she pressed her oil covered stomach to his, their skin slipping over one another's as their lips mingled, her hands kneaded his shoulder blades, and his hands kneaded the small of her back. The only thing that broke the fluffy moment, was the sound of Booth's phone.

"Ignore it," Brennan mumbled against his lips, arching into him as the skin of her stomach glided easily across his.

"I can't," Booth mumbled back to her, "but my hands are," he paused to disconnect their lips, "covered in oil."

"I'll get it for you," Brennan offered, reaching behind her to pick his phone up off the coffee table, flipping it open and pressing it to his ear.

"Booth," he spoke into the receiver, flashing Brennan a grateful smile, as she held the phone to his ear for him.

Brennan nuzzled the skin of his neck gently with her nose again as he spoke to whoever he was speaking to on the phone, closing her eyes as she inhaled his scent mixed with the smell of the baby oil. She stopped paying attention to his words, until he said goodbye to the person on the other end of the phone, and poked her side, signaling for her to flip his phone shut. Brennan did as he asked and closed the phone, slipping it back into his pocket before she leaned up from where her head was buried in his neck to look into his eyes.

"Hi," she smiled cutely, as he leaned down to peck her lips.

She giggled when his oily hands slid up her sides, dampening the fabric of her shirt as he lifted her up by the waist and stood up with her, setting her back on the floor, but keeping his hands around her small waist.

"Come on, Bones," he said softly, "it's getting late."

Brennan hadn't even noticed how tired she was getting until he mentioned the time, and she covered her mouth to yawn and nod in agreement.

"Can I make a request?" she asked, for the second time that night.

"As long as it's not about a gun," he responded.

"It's not," Brennan promised, "I just want you to carry me to bed."

"Now that, I'll be able to manage," Booth laughed lightly, picking her up by the waist again and she laughed and wrapped her legs around his. She pressed her cheek to his oily shoulder as he carried her, letting him do as he asked, and take care of her, laying her down and tucking her under the covers.

"Where are you going?" Brennan asked, grabbing his arm gently when he went to leave her there.

"To take a shower," he laughed softly, "I can't sleep covered in baby oil."

Brennan laughed softly as she let go of his arm, and he went into the bathroom, the last sound she heard being the start of the water before she drifted off into a deep sleep.


	31. There Are No Jungles In DC

**A/N: Gotta make this note quick, since I'm going to be dead tomorrow having to wake up early and being up this late. Thank you all so, so, much for the feedback. I think...I love you guys. xD Apologizing for any errors, 'cause I had to edit this real quick. Enjoy. =] **

Chapter Thirty-One:

"There Are No Jungles In D.C."

"_...for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness or in health, 'til death do you part?" The preacher asked, as Booth looked doubtfully into the eyes of his bride when she stared up at him with those piercing blue eyes, looking slightly nervous._

_He silently prayed that she wasn't getting cold feet. Not now. Not when they were standing at the altar, only two words away from being married. His fears were put at ease when a smile came to her lips, right before she uttered the words._

"_I do," Brennan bit her lip after she spoke. _

"_Then by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you-"_

_Booth didn't wait for the priest to finish before he pulled her close, pressing a soft, but passionate kiss to her lips, both of them smiling through the kiss. The moment was tender and romantic as the people around them clapped and roared. That was, until the loud, booming sound of Foreigner filled the church, causing Booth to wince and pull away from the kiss, giving Brennan a curious look. Her eyes had the same curiosity in them, as the words started._

_**Well I'm hot blooded, check it and see.**_

_**I got a fever of a hundred and three.**_

_**Come on baby, do you do more than dance?**_

_**I'm hot blooded. I'm hot blooded.**_

Booth sat up straight and rubbed the back of his neck, the verse of 'Hot Blooded' blaring out of the bathroom as the running water in the shower cut off. He rubbed his still only half open eyes with the back of his hand before he stood up, shrugging the covers off his shoulders before he went to the bathroom door and knocked lightly.

"Bones," he called through the door, "you in there?"

Brennan quickly wrapped a towel around her, running one of the smaller towels through her hair as she pulled open the door and poked her head out of the bathroom, peeking up at him.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" She asked innocently, turning down the volume on her Ipod speakers when she spoke.

"It's fine," Booth shook his head, "it's just," a small smile crept onto his lips, and picking up on his facial expression, Brennan smiled as well, "you're listening to our song."

"I very much enjoy this song," Brennan reminded him, "the whole reason it even became our song is because you found it at my house next to the stereo."

"Mhm," Booth confirmed, "you tried to tell me it wasn't yours."

"I did not. All I said was that I didn't know how it got there."

"You might as well have been denying it was yours."

"I wouldn't deny that it was mine," Brennan laughed, "now can you do me a favor and get my bag for me so I can find something to wear? I don't think this towel is appropriate work attire."

"Oh, no, no, no," Booth chuckled, nudging the door open and stepping into the bathroom with her, "I like it. Especially when you're hair's all wet and tangled. You could be in a Guns N' Roses video. Welcome to the Jungle?"

"There are no jungles in D.C." she took a step back when he stepped closer to her, allowing him to pin her against the wall.

Booth brushed a piece of her auburn hair away from her neck, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the newly revealed spot.

"How do you _not_ know Guns N' Roses?" He questioned her between kisses, leaving a trail up to the line of her jaw.

Brennan didn't respond to his question, just bit the inside of her lip as her eyes fluttered closed, the feeling of his lips kissing over the warm and wet skin of her neck causing her great pleasure. She bit the inside of her cheek hard when his tongue caressed gently over the skin to remove a droplet of water from the shower that clung to her skin.

"If I moan, are you going to stop?" She asked, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Not if I can't hear you," Booth smirked, reaching behind him to turn the volume on her Ipod speakers all the way up, the sounds of 'Hot Blooded' loudly filling the bathroom.

Booth didn't know why he didn't mind cheating that day. Maybe it was his 'biological urges', or maybe it was just because if they didn't actually partake in any intercourse, it wouldn't exactly be cheating. But either way, he was willing to let it slide that day, especially since he knew how badly Brennan was dying to at least feel him kissing her neck. Brennan closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall, stretching it out to expand his space as his lips made their way back up her neck. Her soft moans were drowned out by the sound of the music, the only reason she knew they were coming out were from the vibrations in her throat. She tangled her fingers in his hair when he nibbled gently on her earlobe, taking his time to tease her, since it would still be a long time until they could actually do anything sexual. Brennan let go of his hair with one hand, letting it wander down to the back of his neck, raking her fingernails gently over the skin there, moaning softly at the concept that they were making out sensually to 'their song'.

"Bones," Booth groaned softly in her ear, before moving back down to the top of her chest, teasing the damp skin gently with his breath before he kissed it.

"God, Booth," she breathed, thankful that he couldn't hear her, since she knew he'd torture her about using the word 'God' if he did.

Brennan moved her hands from his hair and neck to slip carefully up the bottom of his shirt, her fingers caressing the warm skin of his waist, feeling every detail of his torso as she fought the feeling of surprise when he didn't stop. All the surprise left when she felt Booth's lips leave her skin, his back straightening as he leaned away from her.

"Booth," Brennan complained, attempting to shout over the music as she removed her hands from under his shirt and he glanced around the bathroom curiously.

"Sh," he pressed a finger to her lips, "did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Brennan mumbled against his finger.

Booth turned the volume on her speakers back down as he turned the doorknob and opened the bathroom door, which had found it's way closed at some point during their little groping session, peering out into the bedroom. Once the volume of the music was down, Brennan heard what he was talking about. A knock on the front door.

_How the hell did he hear that? _Brennan questioned silently, as she fixed her towel and followed behind him when he left the bathroom.

Tossing her the bag of clothes she brought, Booth went to the night stand, opening the drawer in the front, and pulling out his gun as Brennan got dressed as quickly and as least revealingly as she could.

"You don't need your gun," Brennan assured him, smoothing her dress down once it was on her body, "I doubt that any of them would come to your house."

"You know, Bones, it's better to be safe than sorry, so," he paused, knowing he was about to make her the happiest little anthropologist in the world, "here," he held out his extra gun to her, avoiding eye contact as her blue eyes shimmered at him.

"Are you screwing with me?" She asked, glancing from the gun to his eyes.

"No. But," he threw in the 'but' quickly, before she could get too excited, "I'm only giving it to you for now so you can stand behind me when I open the door. And, you're not to pull that trigger unless something happens to me. Understand?"

"Yes," Brennan nodded, "but why would you tease me by giving me a gun for now but not letting me keep it?"

"I'll tell you what, Bones. If it _is_ a gang member at the door, and I die, you can keep the gun."

"Well I wouldn't wish death upon you, Booth. Even though, according to your beliefs, once you die you go to a 'magical' place where nothing bad can ever happen."

"Bones..." Booth's tone was warning, as he approached the front door.

"I know, I know," Brennan rolled her eyes, getting the gun cocked and ready when he wasn't looking at her.

Booth turned the doorknob, and Brennan took the opportunity to point her gun towards the door, making sure she was in such a position where she could see the visitor, but they couldn't see enough into the house to see her.

_Jeez, this is heavy_, Brennan thought, her arms shaking as she held the gun.

Brennan kept her finger off the trigger to avoid any knee jerk reactions to press her finger down, as Booth opened the door, his shoulders relaxing a bit when he saw it was only Sully. Brennan lowered her gun in disappointment when she saw his face.

"Sully, what the hell are you doing here?" Booth asked, opening the door a little wider to let him in, quickly shutting it behind him once he was inside the house.

"Have you seen Temp-" Sully stopped himself when he saw Brennan standing off to the side of the door, gun still in hand, even though the safety was on at this point, "oh, thank God," he sighed in relief, "Booth, why didn't you tell me she was staying with you? And why does she have a gun?"

"I have a gun so I can shoot people," Brennan responded, as Booth held out his hand, signaling for her to give him the gun back, "you really should let me keep it. At least until this case is over," she advised him, before placing it back in his hand.

"When there's a violent El Salvadorian street gang with you on their hit list, a knock on the door can be a little concerning, so I gave her a gun just incase anything happened to me and I couldn't shoot. And I didn't tell you she was with me because when I told you last night that I'm not letting her out of my sight, that meant, you know, _I'm not letting her out of my sight._"

"Even though it's completely unnecessary," Brennan added in.

Before she could react, Sully had her wrapped up in a tight hug, alarming her a little bit before she patted his back comfortingly, glancing at Booth over Sully's shoulder.

"Jeez, Tempe, I thought something happened to you," he breathed, letting go of her and chuckling softly when he saw her surprised expression, "sorry, I just, when I went to your place and you weren't there, and then I called and you didn't answer, I got worried."

"It's okay, Sully. It's perfectly natural for you to get worried," Brennan promised.

Sully smiled weakly at her, turning his gaze back to Booth.

"So, she's staying with you?" He asked.

"Mhm," Booth responded, looking disinterested as he straightened out a picture on one of the end tables near the couch, "I told you, I'm going to be with her 24/7. You don't have to worry, Sul. I won't let anything happen to her."

Sully cleared his throat as he glanced between the two of them, his pupils dilating slightly when the thought crossed his mind.

"So are you two, like," he paused, thinking of the appropriate way to word his question, without sounding like a creep, "are you guys, like, sleeping together now?"

Booth opened his mouth to lie, but Brennan's words beat him to the chase.

"Yes," she said, simply, "Booth has a queen sized bed. There's room for us both."

"No," Sully laughed, shaking his head at how clueless she was, "I didn't mean sharing a bed. I meant, are you like, you know, _sleeping together_. Like, sleeping together, sleeping together."

Brennan looked at him with curious eyes until something clicked in her mind.

"You mean are we engaging in sexual intercourse?"

"Bones!"

"What?" She looked at Booth, turning back to Sully after a few seconds of studying Booth's shocked expression, "that is what you were asking, wasn't it?"

"Well, yeah," Sully mumbled, slightly embarrassed.

"No, Bones and I are partners, Sully," Booth said, pulling the door open, ready to get rid of him once he brought up the awkward question, that he knew Brennan may very well have responded seriously to, "just partners. We're not," he paused, slightly flustered, "doing that."

"Are you sure?" Sully asked, backing towards the door now, catching onto his silent signal with the door, "because, I mean, if you are, then good for you, man. Good for both of you, really. I'm, happy, for you two."

"We're not, trust me on that one, pal," Booth placed a hand on his back, encouraging him out the door, "maybe I'll see you later when I come in, but probably not, because you're working undercover. So you know what? Just don't count on it, okay?"

"Um, okay," Sully said awkwardly, turning to face him once he was back outside the house, "listen, Booth, if you're ever stuck at work or anything, and you can't be with Tempe, I'd be glad to let her stay at my place for the night."

"I think I can handle it," Booth assured him, flashing a very plastic smile before he shut the door, as politely as possible, in his face.

Brennan gave him a curious look when he turned back around to face her, letting out a small breath before he mumbled something inaudible under his breath, rolling his eyes.

"You look upset," she observed.

"Yeah," Booth confirmed her suspicion, "you know, I really, really, don't like him."

"Why?" Brennan asked, "are you afraid that I still have a sexual attraction to him?"

Booth laughed, a cocky smile on his face as he rolled his eyes playfully at the question.

"Of course not," he snorted, "I mean, look at Sully, and look at me."

"Yes, you're definitely more handsome than Sully, but there are other qualities that you lack and Sully has, like humbleness and the ability to think rationally. Plus, Sully's sweet, romantic,_ great_ in bed, and he can make me laugh."

"I'm sorry, are we still talking about Sully? Because this sounds a lot like me."

Brennan had to smile and roll her eyes playfully, giggling lightly when she felt Booth's arms wrap around her waist, pressing a soft, persuasive kiss to her hair.

"You can be romantic," she concurred, "but you still bicker with me. Sully would just let me have my way. You," she gasped slightly when he nipped gently at her ear, "you always have to try and prove yourself, which isn't very," she paused again to suck in a deep breath when he pressed warm open-mouthed kisses down her neck, her voice quivering with her last words, "romantic, if you ask me. Oh, Booth, you really need to stop."

"What was that?" He asked, playfully, "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you. I was too busy not being romantic."

"Booth," she complained, "you're attempting to distract me by kissing my neck."

"And?"

"And, it's working."

"Mmm, good," Booth chuckled, gently tracing his tongue over the skin on the bottom of the side of her neck, "does that feel nice, baby?"

Brennan every bit of self control she had to contain the moan that wanted to slip past her lips.

"Better, than you know," she spoke between deep breaths, "and don't call me baby."

"What was that, baby?" He asked, kissing back up her neck.

"Booth," she complained again, reaching behind her to clutch onto the fabric of his shirt, "don't."

"Don't what?" He asked, feeling in the mood to tease her, as his lips traced her mandible.

"Call me baby," she unclenched his shirt to slap him playfully in the arm.

"Call you baby?" Booth asked, playfully, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the line of her jaw "whatever you say, baby."

"Stop," she complained, gasping lightly when he finally kissed her skin.

Booth pulled away and looked at her sweetly. Brennan turned around and eyed him curiously when he stopped, a small frown stretching across her face when he turned on his heel to go back to the bedroom. She followed behind him, thinking maybe, just maybe, he decided it was okay to cheat, but the thoughts only faded when he started to lay out his suit.

"What are you doing?" Brennan asked, leaning against the dresser.

"Getting ready for work," Booth responded, as if that were obvious.

"I meant, why did you stop kissing me? I was finding that quite enjoyable."

"You told me to stop," he shrugged.

"I meant stop calling me baby," Brennan whined, "you knew that."

"Me?" Booth mocked surprise, pulling off his t-shirt to replace it with a white button down, "of course I didn't. I thought you really wanted me to stop kissing you."

"No you didn't," Brennan complained, "I'm not very good at reading people but I can tell when you're not being truthful," she paused to think for a minute, before letting her mouth fall slightly agape, "you, Seeley Booth, are a tease," she pointed an accusing finger at him, "you knew I didn't want you to stop. You just get great pleasure out of teasing me."

"I do," Booth confirmed, "and what are you complaining about? It's not like we can have sex anyway. You'd only be torturing yourself."

"Just because we can't partake in intercourse doesn't mean that I don't enjoy being aroused by you," she said, placing her hands on her hips in frustration, "come on, Booth. This is torture. I can't believe Sweets is making us take part in his completely ludicrous experiment."

"Sweets isn't making us do anything," he reminded her, "we agreed."

Brennan huffed as she stepped into him, grabbing the sides of his shirt between her hands as she started to button it slowly, starting from the bottom.

"Can't we un-agree?" She asked, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his torso when she started on the second button.

"No," Booth said, drawing in a deep breath as she made her way up his torso, kissing each patch of skin before it was covered with material, "I'm a man of my word."

"I know," Brennan muttered, smoothing down the fabric at the bottom when she reached his chest, pressing soft kisses to the skin that was still exposed before she did the last two buttons, "but I'm attempting to persuade you otherwise."

"I can see that," Booth chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, teasingly, "but it's not going to happen until Sweets says it can."

"Can you call him and ask?" She asked, hopefully.

"No," he laughed at how tenacious she could be, "three weeks is not that long, Bones."

"It's a long time to go without you," she complained, "and don't even tell me you don't want to. Don't even tell me that it wasn't the only thing on your mind when you saw me in that towel this morning. You want it just as bad as I do, you just have better self control of your primal urges, because you don't just call former partners when you need a release. You wait until you're in a relationship."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's not, it's just, I want to have intercourse with you, Booth."

"Subtle," Booth laughed, "way to just, ease into that one, Bones."

"I wasn't attempting to be subtle. I was just informing you of my desires."

"And I want to have sex with you too, Bones. But I have this little thing called self control."

"I have self control."

Booth took a step closer to her, taking her face between his hands, looking into her eyes with a hint of seduction before he pressed a feather light kiss to her lips.

"Then use it," he whispered, letting go of her face and going to finish getting ready.


	32. But I Don't Want To Look Desperate

**A/N: Sorry about the shortness of this chapter. I had a hectic day today. My family and I went upstate to help my sister move into her college dorm, and it was a nightmare. I wrote this chapter running on two hours of sleep and with a pounding headache, so it's not going to be my best work, but hey, I tried. xD**

**Thank you for the reviews and other good things, everyone. =] Honestly makes me giddy. =D**

Chapter Thirty-Two:

"But I Don't Want To Look Desperate"

"Bren, I have a face for one of your limbo cases," Angela held up her sketch pad as she walked into the bone storage room to find Brennan putting tissue markers on a skull that was over ten years old, "sweetie?"

"Yes, I heard you, Ange," Brennan assured her, as she set the tissue markers down, "I'm sorry, I'm just a little distracted today."

Angela set her sketch pad down and put her hand on Brennan's shoulder, guiding her away from the skull, despite her words of protest.

"Angela, it's very important that I finish this and-"

"Sweetie, the bones can wait. _We_ need to talk," Angela's voice was serious.

"About what?"

"About how distant you've been lately."

Brennan gave Angela a quizzical look when she spoke the words, her brow furrowing in confusion as her fingers played with the chunky beads of her necklace.

"Distant?" Brennan questioned her, "I haven't been distant. I come to work and do my job efficiently every day, Monday through Friday, and on the weekends if it's a murder case."

"I didn't mean distant from your job," Angela had to laugh at Brennan's defense mechanism, "I meant distant from, us. Me, Cam, Hodgins, and even Zack."

"I don't understand what I'm doing to give you the idea that I'm being distant."

"I don't know how to explain it, Brennan. You just seem like you don't want to be around us anymore. You come to work, sometimes give me a quiet 'hello' if we walked past each other, and then you disappear for the rest of the day, working on limbo cases or just hanging out in your office until we have to leave. Is something going on?"

"Something?" Brennan asked.

"Something bad, Bren," Angela's voice was slightly irritated, "because, I'm your best friend, and if something's going on that you need or want to talk about, you can trust me."

"I know, Ange, but there's nothing going on."

"Brennan, I know when you're lying."

Brennan scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, feeling uncomfortable asking Angela what she was going to ask her, since she knew she, more than likely, wouldn't get an honest answer from her best friend on this particular subject.

"Angela, do you think I'm dependent and unpleasant to be around?" She asked.

"What?" Angela was slightly taken back by the question, "did you just ask me if I think you're clingy and annoying?"

"No, I asked if you thought I was dependent and unpleasant to be around."

Angela a palm against her forehead and let out a long sigh, peeking at Brennan through her fingers after her breath.

"Of course not, sweetie," she assured her, "why are you even asking me that?"

Brennan glanced at the ceiling, looking for the proper way to word it.

"I feel like I may be acting in a slightly, aggressive, manner" she said, twisting a lock of her auburn hair around her index finger.

"With Booth?" Angela's mouth was slightly agape in surprise.

Brennan nodded.

"How?" Angela asked, "I mean, how do you feel aggressive?"

"It's kind of difficult to explain, Angela. Booth is very in control of his emotions. I've tried before, Ange. He's not easily seduced."

"Bren, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Booth. He can tease me, but I can't tease him. And it makes me feel as if I'm, desperate. Like I'm throwing myself at him. Sometimes he's very hard to understand. Of course he has primal urges, as does every other healthy mammal, but then I put myself out there, and he's unresponsive. Am I doing something wrong, Ange? Is something making him disinterested in me physically? Maybe I should attempt to use different soap, or a different perfume."

"Sweetie, I'm sure you're not doing anything wrong," Angela laughed lightly, "if Booth didn't like the way you smelled, he wouldn't have been totally head over heels for you in the first place. Trust me, keep doing what you're doing. He'll break eventually."

"But, I don't want to look desperate."

Angela waved her comment off as if it were irrelevant.

"You won't," Angela promised, "I don't think Booth minds a little desperation."

"I mind, Angela," Brennan complained, "I'm supposed to be Doctor Temperance Brennan, a brilliant forensic anthropologist and best selling author who solves murders with the FBI. I'm supposed to be a strong, independent woman. Strong independent women don't act out of desperation. Strong independent women have men desperate for _them_."

Angela placed her hands on her hips, giving Brennan the 'are you kidding me?' look.

"Being just a pinch desperate will pay off in the end. Especially with Special Agent Sexy. If what he wants is begging, then begging he should receive, sweetie. You're the one who told me he's like, a God in bed."

"I don't believe I used those words."

"Regardless, when a man is great in bed, you give him whatever he wants. Well, at least for the first few weeks until their bedtime routine gets old. After that, you only have sex, once a week, if that, and you're not obligated to do nice things for each other anymore."

"I'm not going to get bored with Booth," Brennan assured her, "this is going to sound very foreign coming from me, but our relationship is more than just sex. It's difficult to explain, but when I'm even in his presence, I get a strange, tight, feeling in my lower abdominal."

"That's 'butterflies in your stomach', sweetie," Angela explained.

"That's completely irrational. Butterflies have no access to my-"

"It's an expression, Brennan," Angela shrugged her lab coat off her shoulders, taking it off and draping it over her arm before picking her sketch book back up, "are you almost finished? Because we're leaving. It's late, so you should probably get going too."

"Oh, I'm not allowed to leave without Booth," Brennan rolled her eyes when she remembered that she had to be babysat until Sully's case was over, "I'm just going to finish working on this until he's done."

"Date tonight?" Angela asked.

"More like babysitting."

"Babysitting?"

"It's a long story, Ange. I'll tell you tomorrow."

"Okay, sweetie. Don't stay too late."

And with that, Angela was gone, and the lab was silent once more. Only a short while later, Brennan was finished putting the tissue markers on one of the skulls, and she had nothing left to do but just sit there and wait for her lover slash babysitter. She used the term 'lover' very loosely, since they hadn't been 'loving' that much in the past couple days. Maybe he wasn't feeling anything physical for her anymore because she stopped using that lavender and jasmine soap. Or maybe it was because she hadn't been wearing sexy little outfits. When the thought crossed her mind, she quickly went to her office to grab her bag, pulling her phone out when she got it and started to head out of the lab. As she walked to the car, she quickly texted Booth.

"**Went back to my place. Meet me there? ;]**"

Feeling slightly giddy inside, Brennan closed her phone and shoved it back in her purse, before getting in her car and driving back to her apartment, feeling the hypothetical butterflies in her stomach start to flap around again.


	33. I Want To Do It Again

**A/N: Thank you all so, so much, for making me feel so adored. =] Your prize is *drumroll*...an update. Yay! xD**

**And I also gave you all a little treat, since yesterday's update was short and pretty much a filler because I was tired. xD I'd tell you the treat, but you can just read and find out. *insert evil laugh here***

Chapter Thirty-Three

"I Want To Do It Again"

When Booth got to Brennan's house some hours later, he was ready to give her the third degree for leaving the safety of the lab and going back home by herself when he specifically told her not to go anywhere alone, for just a little while. He couldn't even see the cuteness in her text, since the annoyance he was feeling overshadowed it at the moment. When he opened Brennan's front door, he started to lecture her before he even knew where she was.

"What the hell were you thinking leaving the lab alone?" He asked, the tone of his voice sharp, as he shut the door behind him, "can't you just listen to me? For once? I told you not to go out on your own-" he cut himself off when the sweet scent filled the air around him, "okay, something smells like apple pie and it's making it really hard to be mad at you."

"Then don't be mad at me," Brennan stepped out of the kitchen, seeing his mouth fall slightly agape when he took notice to her outfit, the little black dress that he bought for her in Vegas, when they were undercover as Tony and Roxie, "Hiya, Tiger."

"Oh, don't even _try_to win me over with pie and roleplaying, Bones," he pointed an accusing finger at her, "I'm annoyed with you, and I'm not going to change my mind over a sexy black dress and a slice of pie."

"Baby, don't call me Bones, not now," she winked, taking a seat on the arm of the couch as she crossed her legs, "now come here, Tiger," she threw him a seductive smirk, "let me take care of my man," her smile grew wider when he approached her, "I'll let you make me your brand new Mustang, and you can take me for a test drive."

Booth sighed when he reached her, as she asked, but only took his suit jacket off and draped it over her shoulders, which were only covered by the thin spaghetti straps of the dress.

"I'm serious, Bones," he said, his tone softening a bit, as she pulled the black jacket on properly and looked up at him with a confused expression, "not now."

Brennan's eye were confused as she looked at him, wondering what his problem with her flirting was. Normally, a man would like the sexy black dress, the strong scent of her lavender and jasmine soap, the sultry words and voice she was speaking to him with.

"Is this outfit not alluring enough?" She questioned.

"No, no," Booth responded quickly, shaking his head to assure her that the dress wasn't the problem, "it's not the dress. It's just," he searched for the words to explain what he was feeling towards her at the moment, "do you even know how badly you scared me when you told me you were leaving the lab and going home? I told you not to go out alone because you're in danger. I feel like you don't understand what's going on. Mara Muerte has a hit out on you. I know you're independent, and you think you can handle yourself, but you can't. Not against them."

"Booth," she sighed, "I'm fine, aren't I?"

"That's not the point," his voice was slightly more irritated at this point, "the point is that there was a big chance that you _wouldn't_ have been fine. Just, listen to me on this one. Don't go out alone. I don't care how tough you think you are, stay with someone at all times. If you can't be with me, find someone else to be with, just don't go anywhere alone, okay?"

"Okay," Brennan said quietly, her gaze drifting to the floor as she bit the inside of her lip.

She wasn't exactly sure why, but she was feeling a mixture of upset, hurt, ashamed, and embarrassed. The feelings were swimming in her head, and causing her great confusion. Booth wasn't yelling at her, he wasn't mad at her, he wasn't disappointed in her, so why was she feeling so horrible. All she did was leave the lab, and they were talking about it like civilized adults, the way Sweets' said they should.

"Bones, are you okay?" Booth asked, as he watched her facial expression.

Brennan didn't respond at first, just lifted her eyes from the ground to look into his.

"Are you lacking a physical attraction towards me?" She asked

"What?" Booth was slightly taken back by the question, "no, of course not. You're beautiful, Bones."

"Yes, I know," Brennan was unaware of how full of herself she sounded, "but you may not have a physical attraction to someone who's beautiful. Physical attraction is a chemical reaction that takes place in your brain. You can not control whether or not you're attracted to somebody. So, if you're not, you can tell me, because there is no possible way you can force yourself to be. I won't be angry with you, Booth."

"Bones, what the hell are you rambling about?" Booth was completely confused, "Are you really asking me if I have a 'physical attraction' towards you?"

"It's a very basic and direct question. Yes or no."

"Yes, of course. Why are you even asking me that?"

"Because, you don't seem very phased by anything I do," she sighed, "I put on a sexy black dress, talk dirty to you, I even bought you a pie from the bakery, but you just don't seem interested. I just wanted to make sure that you have the same sexual attraction to me that I have to you. Because, you drive me crazy, Seeley. In a good way."

Not using words to respond, Booth took her hand and placed it on his chest so she could feel his heart beating erratically against his toned chest. Brennan felt the hard beating and looked up at him, the unsure look in her eyes starting to fade.

"You're heart rate has noticeably increased," she observed.

Booth laughed softly, taking notice to the small smile that formed on her lips.

"You're the only person who can do that to me," he informed her.

"You're bluffing," she accused, her smile growing brighter.

"I'm not," he laughed, leaning over her slightly, so his face was closer to hers, "you don't have to get dressed up, and put on a show. Because I don't want Roxie, I want Bones."

"Tony wanted Roxie," Brennan reminded him.

"Too bad I'm not Tony."

"You could be, but only if you want to."

"I'd rather you just be Bones, and I'll keep on being Booth."

"Fine."

They hadn't noticed that they were leaning closer to each other as they spoke until their foreheads pressed together. Booth chuckled and placed his arms on either side of her still crossed legs, so he was hovering over her from where he was standing and she was still seated on the arm of the couch. Letting out a breathy laugh, Brennan slipped out from under him and stood up straight, smoothing down her dress, which had slid up in the process.

"Then I'll go change into something less, tight," she said, touching his shoulder gently before she proceeded towards the bedroom

Booth watched in appreciation as she walked to his bedroom, turning into the kitchen once she was behind the closed door to get a piece of that pie that she was talking about. On the counter, he saw an open white box, containing the apple pie that he smelled when he first walked into the house. Feeling much more excited than he should have, he quickly got a plate, and cut a piece of pie, making sure to top it with whipped cream before he got a fork and sat at the table, already starting to put fork fulls in his mouth.

"You like it?" Brennan asked.

Booth turned around at her words, stopping the chewing he was working on as he examined her choice in attire. She'd wiped her make up off so that it was only slightly visible, and changed into one of his white dress shirts, complete with the suit jacket he had given her before to cover her bare shoulders.

"Wow, Bones," his words were muffled by the pie that was still in his mouth, "you look, very," he paused, slightly flustered, "comfortable."

"I was, talking about the pie," a light blush came to her cheeks as she giggled awkwardly and brushed a piece of hair out of her face, "but, thank you, I guess."

"Oh, well, the pie's good too," he chuckled, looking down at his already empty plate, "I guess you can tell, since I finished my piece already."

Brennan laughed lightly, sliding up next to him and looking down at him seriously. Booth looked up at her, a smile on his face, until he saw the serious expression she wore.

"What's up, Bones?" He asked.

Brennan sighed and straddled his lap innocently, wrapping her arms gently around his neck once she was settled in her spot and pressing her forehead to his. Booth felt his heart start to beat erratically again, his mind reminding him over and over again that she wasn't wearing pants, only causing his heart rate to increase more. He took a deep breath as Brennan scooted up in his lap so her stomach could press softly against his.

"Can we make love?" She asked innocently.

"Bones," Booth groaned in frustration, "the therapy."

"No," Brennan shook her head, unwrapping one arm from around his neck to press her finger very softly to his lips, "it's not about the sex, Booth. I don't want to have sex with you, I want to make love."

"Bones, making love is still considered-"

Brennan hushed him again.

"I know," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "but, I mean, it's not about the sex. It's about the closeness. I want us to become, metaphorically, one. I want to touch every inch of your skin, and moan your name in ecstasy. I want to breath in your scent, and I want you to make me blush. Please, Booth. I'm asking you because I know that you meant what you said, about the physical attraction, and now I want to connect on a level that's both physical and emotional."

"We already have, Bones," he reminded her, swallowing nervously, her scent driving him crazy.

"I want to do it again," she whispered, her breath caressing his lips.

Brennan gasped lightly when his lips touched softly to hers, the kiss starting out light and innocent, but growing with time. Lips parted, tongues mingled, and Brennan's hands had moved into Booth's hair as they kissed. Booth moved his arms from around her waist, sliding them gently up her body, eliciting a soft moan from her, as his hands reached the first button on her, well _his_, shirt, popping it gently open. He pulled away to look at her, as if silently asking for her approval. Picking up on his message, Brennan nodded and slid her hands down his fabric covered chest.

She closed her eyes when she felt his arms wrap back around her waist, and she fastened her legs tight around his, as he stood up and carried her into his bedroom. Her eyes didn't open when she heard the click of the bedroom door closing behind them, or the flick of a lamp that was resting on the night stand to fill the room with a very dim light. They only opened when she felt the cold sheets against the back of her legs, causing her to whimper slightly as she shifted uncomfortably and fluttered her eyes open to look at him. Her lips turned into a smile when she saw the way he looked at her, nothing but adoration and love in his eyes, as he reached down to brush a lock of auburn hair out of her eyes.

His eyes said the words that he didn't. I love you. And she knew he loved her, as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to her neck, listening only to the sounds of her light moans as his fingers worked at the buttons on her slash his, shirt. Brennan arched up into him, moaning angelically at the sensation of his lips against her neck as she shrugged awkwardly out of his jacket, moving her fingers up to quickly, but gently, undo the buttons on his shirt. He didn't have to remind her to be gentler, or slower, this time. She knew what she was doing this time, as she slid the shirt off his shoulders, not wasting any time before moving her hands to the 'cocky' belt buckle. She was going to pop it open, before she felt the cold air from the room caress her now bare stomach as she shivered and whimpered a little.

"I'm sorry," Booth whispered, barely audible, assuming he had rested too much weight on the woman beneath him when she made the small sound.

Brennan only shook her head, not even noticing her that her fingers were popping open his belt buckle, almost against her will.

"Cold," she managed to squeak out, her voice just as quiet as his.

Booth affectionately pulled the blanket over them in response to her complaint, moving down to press gentle, but open mouthed, kisses to her stomach, slowly working his way upwards, the warmth of his breath warming her chilly skin. Brennan made a small sound of appreciation as she gently slid his pants off, as opposed to the usual way she jerked them off in a hurry. Booth didn't miss a beat when he helped her, his lips never pausing as he kissed gently up her stomach, which was, at this point, moving rhythmically up and down with her erratic breathing. When his lips reached her chest he could feel her heartbeat, and paused for just a moment to feel it, pressing his cheek to her chest.

"B-Booth," Brennan whimpered, running her fingers through his hair.

"What's the matter?" His voice was soft, as he peeked up at her.

"I'm ready," Brennan whispered, her cheeks burning and her pulse rushing.

She moaned softly when his lips pressed back to her neck.

"Positive?" He asked, his words muffled by the skin of her neck, "you don't want more of this first?"

Brennan shook her head, shrugging the unbuttoned dress shirt off her shoulders before she took his hands gently, arching her back, so she could lead them up to the clasp of her bra.

"Positive," she confirmed, when she felt the clip give way against her back, letting her eyes flutter closed again as she repeated, "positive."

She could feel his breath back on her face as she squirmed in anticipation, only lifting her hips from the sheets to assist him in disposing of the rest of their clothing.

"Bones," Booth's voice was gentle, his breath caressing her lips.

"Mmm," she only responded with the small purr.

"Can I make a request?" He asked, thumbing gently over her eyelids.

"Mhm," Brennan purred again, her hands traveling over the warm skin of his back as his hands moved to her waist, holding her hips gently between his hands, a silent signal that he was ready as well.

"I want you to look at me while we make love."

Brennan's eyes fluttered open again, in response to his request, as she looked into his eyes. The look between the two was so intense, that she forgot to breath for a moment. When she was breathing again, she could feel their breaths mingling and their hearts beating in synchronization, causing her to shudder.

"I don't want you to close your eyes," he whispered, his thumbs gently caressing her hip bones, causing her to moan softly and struggle to keep her eyes open, "I want to look into your eyes while we make love. I want you to be able to see how much I love you."

"Booth," Brennan was surprise when just his words caused her to moan in ecstasy, gasping desperately as her eyes forced themselves to keep looking into his.

"I'm not going to look away from you. Just look at _me_, okay? Just me."

Brennan nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as his eyes pierced through hers.

"Thank you," Booth whispered.

Brennan felt her eyes start to flutter closed again, but she forced them open, obeying his wishes.

"I love you, Temperance. Physically and emotionally," he whispered, not breaking their stare into one another's eyes when he spoke.

But Brennan only responded with a sigh and a moan of a mixture of love and ecstasy, her fingernails digging subconsciously into his back since, by the time he'd finished speaking, they had already started to sweetly and tenderly make love.


	34. Nowhere Else But Here

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your kind feedback. I love reading it, and honestly don't know how else to thank you all. Some people even said they made accounts so they could comment? Wow. I feel very, very, proud when I see things like that. Thank you all so much. *virtually hugs you all***

**Oh, and, again, flashbacks are in bold. =] And, I actually took the time to look up the exact dialog for them, so I'm hoping they came out okay, 'cause that was a bit of a hassle. xD**

**I'm pretty sure I told you this already, but with school starting soon, I won't have as much time to write, but I'm going to try and find time to at least work on the updates a little bit each night after homework (and Bones, once it starts again, which I'm completely stoked for). I tried not to, but I looked at spoiler pictures. I had to. They were just, staring at me, tempting me. xD *squeals* I'M SO EXCITED! **

**Okay, I'm going to stop rambling excitedly now. xD**

Chapter Thirty-Four:

"Nowhere Else But Here"

"Well we lasted three days," Booth had to laugh softly at their complete failure to conform to Sweets' therapy, his breathing still erratic as he ran his fingers through her now lightly tangled hair, "that's longer than I thought we would, so I guess that's an upside."

"Hmm," Brennan could only manage a small sound through her shaking breaths, her body still trembling as she rested her head against his chest, her heart pounding loudly in hers.

"You okay, Bones?" He asked, when he observed her state.

"Mhm," she responded shakily, her fingers trailing up his torso carefully before she pressed a flat palm to his chest, "I'm just-that was-" she paused when she failed to form a sentence, her mouth feeling dry as she swallowed, "wow."

Brennan had to question whether or not something was wrong with her. This was the only time she'd ever been catatonic after sex, but she knew exactly why she was. Not once did she ever feel the connection to anybody as she felt that night to Booth when they held one another tight, looking into each other's eyes as they made love, whispering words of encouragement and declarations of their love for each other as they reached their peak together.

"Did I tire you out that much, baby?" Booth asked playfully.

"Don't call me baby," Brennan whispered, pressing a single kiss to his chest.

"I got you to talk," he teased, his fingers lightly grazing over the skin of her back as she buried her face in his chest, her arm draped across his waist as she held him close.

Brennan rolled her eyes playfully as she scooted up to nuzzle gently into his neck, letting her head rest there as she closed her eyes and yawned lightly, her breath soft against his skin. She attempted to stay awake, her fingers tracing over his upper arms as her eyelashes fluttered against his skin when her eyes shifted between open and closed.

"Go to sleep, Bones," Booth encouraged her, taking note of how tired she was.

"That would be inconsiderate," she mumbled sleepily, "to make you lie in _my_ bed alone while I sleep. Plus, aren't you all about 'basking in the sexual afterglow'?"

"And you _still_ find a way to be a pain in the ass, even when you're half asleep," he laughed softly, "I'm not going to be laying here by myself, because I'll probably fall asleep five minutes after you. And even if I don't, you're still here even if you're asleep."

"I don't think you can have very stimulating conversation with somebody who's sleeping," she reminded him, "I'll just stay up."

"Bones, just shut up and go to sleep," he laughed, "I think I'll be okay."

Brennan's mind fluttered back tothe past when she closed her eyes, remembering the first time she ever noticed that Booth was not like any other guy she'd ever met. She remembered the day like it was yesterday. The first time she'd ever seen the real Seeley Booth. Not the cocky, masculine, rule-breaking, FBI agent, but the kind hearted and vulnerable Seeley Booth.

**It was about midday, and the funeral ceremony for Devon Marshall, the soldier who was murdered because of a military conspiracy. Brennan knew that this case hit close to home, so she had been trying her best to be patient and understanding with him through it, and in the end, it payed off, when he opened up to her. She'd never seen him cry before that day. It was a sight she never was able to imagine. Seeley Booth crying. **

"**It's never just one person who dies, Bones," he told her softly, his voice cracking with the last words, as his eyes started to burn, "Never."**

**Brennan rested a comforting hand on his arm, swallowing the ache in her throat to be strong for him, the way he always was for her. She immediatly felt his hand over hers, goose bumps running up her arms at his touch.**

"**You know, we all die a little bit, Bones," he continued, looking up at her with a pained expression, "With each shot, we all die a little bit."**

**Brennan wasn't sure what to do at that point. She wanted to hug him, but she thought maybe that would be coming on a little too strong, so she just settled on staying there with him, her hand on his arm and his over hers, comforting him as best as she knew how.**

"Bones?" Booth's voice pulled her out of her vivid flashback.

"Hm?" Brennan responded, opening her eyes and shifting positions a bit to look at him.

"Nothing," Booth shook his head, "you just, seemed like you were somewhere else."

"I wasn't," Brennan assured him, gently rubbing the warm skin of his chest with the palm of her hand as she spoke, "I'm just here. Nowhere else but here," she pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, breathing in his uniquely Booth scent, "I'm where I should be, Seeley."

"Is there something you want to talk about?" Booth asked, noticing that she seemed to be a little off since he pulled her out of her daydream.

Brennan shifted positions again as Booth loosened his grip around her to let her move to where she wanted to be. With her newly found freedom, she turned over onto her side, scooting close to the side of his body as his arm draped across around her shoulders. Brennan peeked up at him from her new position, her fingers dancing across his bare chest, her eyes focused on his skin as she spoke in a low voice.

"Do you ever miss it?" She asked, sounding slightly ashamed.

"Miss what?" Booth questioned her, not seeing where she was going with her question.

Brennan had her cheek pressed to his shoulder as she drew in a deep breath.

"Just being friends," she mumbled, praying that the question wouldn't get him annoyed with her, "not having to worry about getting caught together, or how often we have intercourse. Just being, Brennan and Booth, nothing more, nothing less, no strings attached."

Booth looked down at her curiously, her question raising some questions of his own.

"Do you?" He asked.

"I asked first."

"No, I don't miss it. Not at all. Do you?"

"No," Brennan promised, shaking her head.

"Then why did you ask?" Booth asked, his fingers subconsciously tracing her spine.

"Because I just didn't know if you did," Brennan shrugged, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, making her way up his neck at a slow, tender, pace, speaking between kisses, "you seemed to, enjoy when, we used to, just goof around, and not have to worry, about, anything, sexual," she stopped when she reached the line of his jaw, smiling sweetly up at him.

"Mmm," Booth purred, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, "I did. But I enjoy this more."

Brennan giggled softly as her arms fastened around his waist and she looked up into his chocolate brown eyes, her light gasp replaced with a moan of pleasure when he quickly captured a sensitive spot on her neck with his lips, teasing it with his tongue when she moaned.

"So do I," she moaned softly, her eyes fluttering closed to embrace the feeling.

She let out a small whimper of protest when his lips left her skin, and he shifted her in his arms to lay her on her back once more. Brennan subconsciously wet her lips with her tongue when she took notice to their new position, thinking it was just about time for round two.

"Sleep," he instructed her, his words the last ones she wanted to hear at that moment.

"Booth," she complained, only to be cut off when his fingers pressed to his lips.

"Bones, don't fight me on this," his voice was light and serene, "just sleep, please."

"Fine," Brennan muttered, closing her eyes as she pulled the covers up around her shoulders, snuggled up against Booth's chest as her mind quickly started to drift.

She wasn't sure why, but the last thing she thought of before she went to sleep was the day Sully left on his boat, and Booth was there to comfort her. How did she never realize that he felt the same way about her that she did about him? Why had she been so afraid to tell him how she really felt? The scene from that day played in her mind like a movie as she drifted off:

**Once Sully and his boat faded from her sight, Brennan drew in a deep breath and turned around, her mind having to scold her several times to make sure she didn't cry. When she did finally turn around, she saw the last person she expected standing behind her, with a small smile on his face. She felt her heart jump in her chest, the thoughts of Sully getting quickly pushed from her mind when she looked up at Booth.**

"**What are you doing here?" She asked, putting on a show, pretending she didn't want to see him.**

**Booth had the charming half smile, that made her heart melt, on his face when he spoke.**

"**I'm waving goodbye," he explained, the sarcasm notable in his voice as he lifted his hand and waved at the barely visible boat, "see?"**

**Brennan kept her face stern, as much as she wanted to smile.**

"**What do you want?" She asked.**

"**Breakfast," he responded simply.**

"**I'm not hungry," she kept her voice flat.**

"**Oh, come on," Booth chuckled, putting his arm around her shoulder as they started to walk, able to feel Brennan tremble slightly under his touch.**

**Brennan's mind was gone after that. She knew they were having some sort of conversation, but she only responded half heartedly, since her mind was just focused on the arm that Booth had draped around her shoulder. Even in her foggy state of mind, Brennan still remembered one thing he said to her, clear as day. **

"**Give it time, Bones. Give it time. Everything happens eventually."**

**Was that supposed to mean something? Or was it just wishful thinking?**

"**Everything?" She asked, subtle suggestiveness in her voice.**

"**All the good stuff," he corrected, smiling charmingly down at her, "and when you think it never happens, it happens. Just got to be ready for it."**

At that moment, Brennan just ignored his words, thinking it was just another silly ramble coming from the mouth of Booth, the hopeless romantic. But she came to realize the seriousness of his words. The fact that they were laying, tangled together in the sheets, the skin of their naked bodies brushing together when they shifted in their sleep, was proof that his words beared some sort of truth to them. They happened. Because they were ready for it, after years of tension. Maybe everything good really did happen eventually.

**(line break)**

"Booth," Brennan whined in her half asleep stage when she felt someone nip gently at her ear, swatting her hand around the left side of her face, "Booth, I'm sleeping."

Booth ignored her as he took her earlobe gently between his teeth.

"Mmm," Brennan mumbled, stopping the swatting of her hand to press her palm to his cheek, feeling the stubble of his five o' clock shadow on the soft skin of her fingers, "mmm, Booth-I-it's early. I'm, mmm, sleeping."

"I have a feeling that's going to be changing soon," he whispered in her ear in a husky voice, pressing a hot open mouthed kiss to her mandible.

Brennan slid her fingers up his face to the back of his head, wrapping her fingers in his hair as he left wet kiss marks on her skin as she moaned.

"What, oh," she paused to moan softly, "time is it?"

"Don't worry about it," he whispered, feeling her body tremble when his fingers caressed her waist softly.

"Booth," she moaned, winding his hair tight around her fingers, "I'm serious."

He stopped kissing her, moving a hand to her face to tilt her head gently to look at him.

"I said, don't worry about it," he whispered, "we're not going to work."

"Why not?" Brennan questioned, her fingers trailing down his shoulder blade.

"Because I called out," he started to explain, resuming the wet, steamy kisses he was pressing to her jaw bone, "and I texted Cam from your phone, telling her that you couldn't come in because you weren't feeling well," he peeked up at her and smiled, "I pretended to be you."

"Booth," she complained, "that's illegal," she moaned when she felt the sensation of his tongue press against her skin, "oh, God, there."

"I wasn't planning on it," he whispered against her skin, "and you don't believe in God, remember? Remember, he's just my imaginary friend?" He nipped the skin of her jawbone gently, "God doesn't exist. He's just a 'figment of my imagination'."

"Shut up, Booth," she growled, biting down on her lip as he teased her.

"Are you yelling at a Federal Agent?" He questioned her, mocking surprise, "I'm going to have to make you pay for that."

"I don't have anywhere to be," she smiled suggestively, raking her fingernails gently over his back, "come on, G-Man. Show me why you're a Special Agent In-Charge."

Booth smirked at her before he leaned down to nip gently at her neck, eliciting a moan from her mouth as she wrapped her fingers back up in his hair.

"Are you going to come quietly, Doctor Brennan?" He asked, "Or am I going to have to get my handcuffs?"

"I don't know," Brennan smirked, moaning again as she arched into him, feeling a warm and fluttering feeling in her stomach when their skin brushed together, "I'm," she paused to moan again, "unpredictable. But a big, masculine, FBI agent like you should be able to control me."

"Was that a challenge?" Booth asked, his arms wrapping around her waist, pressing her tight to his chest when she arched into him.

"I don't know, Special Agent Booth," she teased, her voice just as playful as his, enjoying his affection, "why don't you tell me?"

Taking up her challenge, Booth pressed his lips hungrily to hers, their lips meeting in a frantic kiss as Brennan tugged gently at his hair when his warm tongue shocked her mouth. They took a while to explore one another's mouths, both shuddering when the other would moan their name erotically into their mouth. Brennan felt as if she'd just been thrown into a bad romantic comedy when her phone started to ring. She groaned in irritation before disconnecting their lips and reaching for the phone, feeling Booth's hand on her arm to stop her.

"No," he told her, pulling her back into the kiss, mumbling against her lips, "let it ring."

"I can't," Brennan laughed softly, leaning away from him just long enough to open her cell phone and press it to her ear, before he pulled her back into his chest, "Brennan."

"_Doctor Brennan, hi_," Sweets' voice came in through the speaker on her phone, "_can you spare a minute so I can ask you a question? Or are you busy? 'Cause if you're busy fighting crime I totally understand._"

"No, no, not busy," she paused to suck in a deep breath when Booth kissed her neck again, "at all. What do you need?"

"_Well I know we usually have therapy on Saturday, but I'm going to be going out of town with my girlfriend, Daisy, this Saturday, so I was wondering if you and Agent Booth would be able to come in today. Or tomorrow, if you can't_."

"Therapy? Today?" Brennan asked, her mind only focused on Booth, who was nipping her sensitive spots gently, purposely trying to get a moan out of her, "I'll ask Booth if we can, but I've been, oh," she moaned, when he teased the skin of her collarbone, "I've been feeling a little," she paused to moan once more, "under the weather."

"_You don't sound very sick_," Sweets observed, becoming slightly skeptical of what she was really up to, "_Doctor Brennan, are you okay_?"

"I'm, ah, perfectly fine, Doctor Sweets," her last word was muffled when Booth pressed his lips back to hers.

"_Are you sure?_" Sweets asked.

"Mmm, oh, Seeley," was all he could hear before the line disconnected.

Brennan didn't hear his last sentence, since Booth had already snatched the phone out of her hands and tossed it off the bed, the impact of the floor closing it and disconnecting the call.

"Are we going to therapy?" Brennan asked through the kiss, her hands back on his face, caressing over the line of his jaw.

"Not right now we're not," Booth smirked playfully, nipping her bottom lip gently before he pulled her back to him, causing her to giggle and moan softly against his lips.

**(line break)**

Sweets, however, glanced at his phone when he heard the call disconnect, her far off words sending a wave of confusion, shock, and disappointment through his mind.

_Did she just say Sully? _He asked himself, _Doctor Brennan's sleeping with Agent Sullivan __and__ Agent Booth?_

Without taking a second thought, Sweets dialed the number of the only person he could ask. The only person, other than him, who knew about Brennan and Booth, and the only person who would know if Brennan was juggling relationships.

"Sweets, I'm working on a facial reconstruction, this better be good," Angela barked, answering her phone in a very Angela-ish way.

"Oh, it's good alright," Sweets assured her.

"Ooh, juicy gossip. Do tell."

An interested Angela put her pencil down on her desk now as she waited for a response.

"Well? Spit it out, Sweets."

Sweets took a deep breath, before filling Angela in on his suspicion.

"I think Doctor Brennan is sleeping with someone other than Agent Booth," he said quickly, pausing before the next part, "and I think it's with Agent Sullivan."


	35. Damage Control

**A/N: Just a quick thank you to everyone, 'cause I'm pressed for time. =] And I'm apologizing in advanced, because I didn't have time to really edit this chapter. Hopefully there's not too many mistakes. xD**

Chapter Thirty-Five:

"Damage Control"

Brennan disconnected she and Booth's lips, giggling lightly as she pressed their foreheads together, inhaling deeply to absorb his scent.

"If I do say so myself, that was an exceptional way to be woken up," Brennan commented, giving him her approval as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I thought you might appreciate it," Booth laughed softly, his arms around her waist as he held her close, basking in their sexual afterglow.

"I'm getting a strong feeling that you are not going to let me out of this bed for a month," she joked, her fingers dancing over his shoulder blade as she occasionally pecked his lips.

"Not if you keep touching me like that," he joked back with her, just enjoying laying there with her in his arms, joking around in their normal Booth and Brennan way.

Brennan smiled and pressed her lips softly back to his, threading her fingers through his hair as she disconnected their lips once again.

"Shouldn't we call Sweets back?" She asked, "he's probably skeptical as to why I just hung up on him without saying goodbye."

"Sweets is twelve. He doesn't even know what skeptical means," Booth reminded her, "plus, do you _really_ want to go to therapy right now?"

Brennan felt the uncontrollable smile creep onto her lips.

"No," she answered honestly.

"Neither do I," he laughed softly, rubbing her upper arms gently.

Almost as if on cue, Brennan's phone rang from the floor, filling the quiet room with the unavoidable sound.

"Is that Sweets again?" Booth asked, the irritation clear in his voice, as he peered over the edge of the bed to look at the caller ID on Brennan's cell phone, saying the name aloud to her when he read it on the screen, "Angela."

"Let it go to voicemail," Brennan shrugged, "I'm sure it's nothing of importance."

Only a few seconds after the phone stopped ringing, it beeped with a signal for a text message. Rolling her eyes, Brennan rubbed Booth's shoulder gently with her index and middle finger, her voice apologetic.

"Can you pick my phone up for me?" She asked, "it might be important."

Booth reached over the side of the bed and picked Brennan's phone up off the floor, handing it to her. Brennan opened her phone to see a text message from Angela. Thinking it could possibly be something important, she opened it up, only to read:

**Bren, call me A.S.A.P.!**

"I have to call Angela," Brennan rolled her eyes, slipping out of his arms and out of bed to get dressed into a simple white t-shirt and shorts, "I have to make sure she's okay."

"So much for staying in bed for a month," Booth laughed softly, picking up his phone as well when it pinged with a text message from Sweets, "jeez, this kid can't take a hint."

When Booth opened the text, it read:

**Booth, call me when you get this.**

"What are the chances of that?" He asked, when he read the text message over, as Brennan finished getting changed, "Sweets told me to call him too."

"Maybe we have a case," Brennan suggested, "I doubt that it's a coincidence."

"If we have a case, just put me out of my misery now," Booth mumbled, dialing Sweets number, barely paying attention as the phone rang, "it seems like we get cases at the most inconvenient times."

"Well I don't think murderers plan their schedule around our sex life," Brennan pointed out, putting her hair up in a sloppy bun, listening when Booth started to talk to Sweets.

He didn't respond to her comment, since he was listening to Sweets on the other end of the phone, asking if he could come in, but making it very clear that he didn't want Brennan to come with him.

"Alright, Sweets, just, simmer down, okay?" Booth rolled his eyes at Sweets' franticness, as he got out of bed, sliding his boxers back on before going to Brennan's closet, which now contained a few of his suits and some casual clothes, "yes, I'll come alone if you stop squeaking in my ear, okay, pal?" Brennan saw him roll his eyes as he listened to the psychiatrist on the other end of the line, "alright, alright, I'll be there in a little while. You know, now that I have to put on a suit and go to work after I called out."

Booth flipped his phone shut when Sweets was in the middle of a sentence, and tossed it back on the bed, mumbling something inaudible as he pulled a suit out of the closet.

"Case?" Brennan asked.

"No," Booth assured her, opening one of her dresser drawers, which he'd claimed as his own, to pick out a new pair of boxers, socks, and a tie, "Sweets is just being a pain in the ass again, making me go into work when I called out," he huffed at the situation, "he's getting all uppity, jabbering at me to come in, but of course, I have to go alone."

"I'm not going with you?" Brennan asked curiously, furrowing her eyebrow, "that's a little strange. Isn't it _partners_ therapy?"

"You know what his problem is?" Booth asked rhetorically, ignoring her question, "he lets the power go to his head. He knows that it's his choice whether we stay partners or not, so he just has that whole 'I'm the boss and you do what I say, or else', kind of mind set, and I'll tell you something, if he thinks I'm just going to listen to a kid, he's got another thing coming. He's a scrawny little shrink, not the Godfather."

"I don't know what that means," she told him.

"You know, just go call Angela," he sighed, shaking his head at how clueless she was as he finished getting dressed and pecked her quickly on the lips before leaving her room, "I'll call you later, Bones. We have plans tonight."

"We do?" Brennan asked, but he was gone by the time she asked.

Sighing, Brennan took a seat on the edge of her bed, running her hands over the still warm sheets before she dialed Angela's number and waited patiently for her to answer.

"Sweetie!" Angela answered her phone in an exasperated voice, "oh, thank God you called me. We really need to have a little chat."

"About what?" Brennan asked, pulling an outfit out of her closet.

"This isn't really something we should talk about over the phone," she said, "my lunch break is in an hour. Would you be able to meet me at the diner then?"

"Sure, I'll be there," Brennan assured her, going into the bathroom to start up the water for her shower, "I'll see you then, Ange."

Hanging up her phone, Brennan prepared for her shower, having to wonder somewhere in the back of her mind why she and Booth's friends were acting so strange that day.

**(line break)**

"Sweets, I swear, this better be good," Booth's voice startled the psychiatrist, who was sitting comfortably in his chair, waiting for him, "I'm not even supposed to be here. You know, when I call out of work, it means I'm not supposed to be in this building."

"Booth," he knew just by the way Sweets called him 'Booth' as opposed to the formal 'Agent Booth' that this wasn't work related, "this doesn't have anything to do with work."

Booth furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"Well then what the hell is it about?" He asked.

"Please, sit down," Sweets gestured towards the couch, looking him dead in the face when he took a seat, letting him know he was serious, "have you noticed any, changes, in Doctor Brennan's behavior lately?"

"Well she's a little feistier," Booth chuckled, "but that's because we're not allowed to have sex. She's got all this, pent up sexual frustration, so she's kind of been throwing herself at me. But what can I say? I'm the man, ay Sweets?"

"No, that's not what I mean," Sweets shook his head, "well, I mean, that could mean something, but I'm more talking about have you seen any changes in her personality or her mood. Has she been getting upset at you? Seeming like she has a guilty conscience?"

"Oh, I see where you're going with this," Booth had to smile as he straightened his tie and leaned up from where his back was against the couch, "you think Bones is pregnant. You think just because I got Rebecca pregnant before we were married, that it's like, in my psychological nature, or something like that. But she's not. Bones is on the pill."

"Woah, no, Booth," Sweets' eyes widened as he held up his hands in front of him, "no, no, I don't think Doctor Brennan is pregnant," he paused, receiving a highly confused and curious look from Booth as he took a deep breath, and spoke again, "I think she's cheating on you."

Booth's expression turned from curious to a cross between angry and confused.

"You think Bones is cheating on me?" He asked, just to confirm that he didn't mishear.

"I, think it's a possibility," Sweets swallowed nervously.

"Why?"

"Why would she be cheating on you? Or why do I think she is?"

"Why do you _think_ she is, Sweets."

"Well, there was one time that I spoke to Doctor Brennan on the phone, and she was with someone. Intimately," he informed him, not wanting to hold anything back from his friend at this point, "I think I interrupted her intercourse."

"And what makes you draw that conclusion?" Booth asked, "Do you have some sort of magic shrink-y powers that enable you to tell when someone is having sex?"

Sweets drew in another deep breath, hating to be the one to tell him. Even thought he was acting all tough, and like he didn't believe him, he saw the doubt in his eyes.

"She moaned 'Sully'," Sweets said, quietly, "now, normally I wouldn't draw a conclusion based on that, because the connection was pretty bad on our phones, but I mean, whoever it was, it wasn't you, because you two are staying abstinent for the next three weeks."

"We had sex last night," Booth filled him in, "Bones said, she wanted me to prove that I still had a physical attraction to her because she felt like I didn't want her."

"It wasn't last night, Booth," Sweets kept his voice low, trying to be as gentle as possible, "and informing you of her doubts about your sexual relationship may be a sign of her guilty conscience. She may be feeling guilty about having an affair, so she's trying to turn it around to make it look like what she's doing isn't wrong."

Booth glanced from the floor to the ceiling, and then to Sweets, and back to the ceiling. It made sense. Why she started to doubt their physical relationship, why she seemed so affectionate lately, why she insisted on leaving the lab without him the day prior. But then again, there were so many reasons why it wouldn't make sense. If she'd been sleeping with Sully again, Booth doubted that they would have made love the way they did that night. That wouldn't have made any sense. But then again, Brennan didn't believe in monogamous relationships. She'd had more than one boyfriend at a time before. She could have been sleeping with Sully and just not seeing anything wrong with it.

"Booth?" Sweets asked, when he didn't respond to his statement.

"No," Booth's voice was sharp, as he stood up from Sweets' couch, "no. Bones isn't cheating on me. You must have heard something else. She, loves me."

Before Sweets could think of a way to respond, Booth had already left his office, and Sweets had to wonder if maybe telling him about the suspicion was not the best idea.

**(line break)**

Brennan walked through the diner to find Angela, the noises of silverware clinking against plates and bowls, and the white noise of chattering people filling the air around her. She finally spotted Angela sitting at a table near the window, the one where she and Booth usually sat when they went there, and made her way over to sit next to her.

"Hey, Ange," Brennan greeted her, taking her seat and setting her purse down on the floor under her chair.

"Oh, sweetie," Angela sighed, seeing the way Brennan was glowing, immediatly thinking back to her conversation with Sweets from just an hour and a half before, "what is wrong with you? How do I get it through your big, thick, head?"

"I, don't know what you're talking about," Brennan gave her a puzzled look, as she sipped on the water that Angela had ordered for her.

"You told Booth you wanted a monogamous relationship," Angela sighed, "I just don't understand why that's so hard for you."

"Angela, I'm a brilliant scientist with an exceptionally high IQ, and you're causing me great confusion," she said, eyeing her curiously, "Booth and I are in a relationship, and it's, admittedly, going better than I imagined it would. I love him. Not the way I love, Russ, or the way I love you and Hodgins, but a different kind of love. The kind Booth talks about."

"If you love him, don't do this to him," Angela sighed, putting her hand over Brennan's as she spoke, looking her seriously in the eyes, "I understand that sometimes the first love is the strongest, but if you love Booth the way you say you do, you'll stop this craziness and just be with him. Forget about Sully."

"Angela, I'm so lost it's starting to scare me."

"Brennan, I know you're sleeping with Sully."

Brennan nearly choked on the water she was sipping when Angela's words processed quickly in her mind, her eyes dilating with shock as she shook her head.

"What? I'm not, Ange! I swear!"

"Sweetie-"

"No," Brennan cut her off before she could speak, "I told Booth that I wanted to be monogamous, and I intend to keep that promise. I have not slept with Sully since we were a couple back when he first left. I've barely even talked to Sully since he came back to D.C. Where are you coming up with this conclusion?"

"Well, this morning, Sweets told me that he was talking to you on the phone and he heard you moan 'Sully' before the line disconnected."

Brennan ran through the morning in her mind, trying to think of when she would have even been talking about Sully, let alone moaning his name. Then she remembered. Remembered the way that Booth was nipping and licking at her skin when she was trying to talk to Sweets on her cell phone.

"I said 'Seeley'," Brennan corrected her, "Seeley. As in Seeley Booth. Booth and I engaged in sexual intercourse this morning."

"Which explains why you're glowing," Angela smiled goofily, "well now I feel like an idiot for listening to Sweets."

"You're not an idiot," Brennan promised her, "and it wasn't Sweets' fault either. Seeley and Sully are strikingly similar in sound. By the time I said 'Seeley', Booth had already tossed my phone onto the floor, so Sweets probably couldn't hear very well, especially with the sound of the phone's impact against the carpet," Brennan paused to think for a minute, "wait. Exactly how many people did Sweets tell about this misunderstanding?"

"I have no idea," Angela said, honestly, "I just know he told me."

"Well he has no right to go around telling my colleagues who I'm sleeping with. Especially when it's only speculation based off of limited evidence."

"Like you did to Booth when he had that fling with Rebecca?" Angela had to laugh lightly at the irony of her complaint.

"That was different," Brennan defended, "I just brought it up in casual conversation. Sweets went out of his way to call you and tell you who he _thought_ I was sleeping with. You know, he wouldn't even know about Booth and I if he didn't catch us that one time."

"Sweets walked in on you two?" Angela asked, slightly amused.

"We were just kissing," Brennan shrugged, "well, kissing, a lot. And touching each other. And taking each other's clothes off. But no intercourse took place."

Brennan's mouth fell slightly agape when she remembered Booth complaining about how Sweets was acting strange and telling him to go see him by himself. Sweets was going to tell Booth about his phantom speculation.

"Shit," she muttered, pulling her phone out of her purse, her fingers flying across the keys of her phone to send a quick text to Booth as fast as they could.

"Sweetie, what are you doing?" Angela asked, curiously.

Brennan pressed send and closed her phone, setting it next to her on the table before she looked up at Angela with an annoyed expression, not annoyed at her, but at Sweets.

"Damage control," she stated, simply.


	36. I Don't Love Sully

**A/N: Thank you all so, so, so, much for the reviews, alerts, ect. I know it sounds kind of unenthusiastic, but that's only because I'm exhausted, and just wanted to get this chapter out before I went to sleep, since I made you all wait so long already. xD So excuse any errors, please. =] Sorry about the wait, school's pretty hectic, but I'm already getting used to it a little. It's the waking up that's tough for me. xD**

**In this chapter, you all get to see a darker side of Booth. I've always had a thing for the badass Booth, like when he's yelling at the guy from Mara Meurte in 'The Woman In The Garden' (or something along those lines) in the interrogation room. *drools* xD So anyways, here.**

Chapter Thirty-Six:

"I Don't Love Sully"

Booth's mind was running through everything that just happened in Sweets' office, trying to figure out if there could have been a misunderstanding or something along those lines. Even though Sweets was only trying to help, he couldn't help but be angry at the psychiatrist. The only thing that pulled him out of his thoughts was the ping of his phone. When he saw the message was from Brennan, he contemplated ignoring it, but decided to read it anyway, since he still wasn't sure if Sweets was right about the affair or if he was just guessing.

**We need to talk. Urgent. Stay at work. I'm coming. **

As soon as he read the text, Booth pressed Brennan's number on speed dial to call her, huffing as the phone rang on the other end, stepping into his office so he didn't cause a scene in the middle of the Hoover building.

"Brennan," her voice came in through the speaker of his phone, sounding perfectly calm and serene, as if nothing was wrong.

"_Bones!" _He exclaimed, taking her back a little bit, _"are you in the car?"_

"No, not yet," Brennan answered, glancing at Angela as she spoke to Booth, "but I will be in a minute. Just, go into your office or something. I'm coming to speak with you."

_"Oh, no you're not," _Booth told her, sternly, a small, bitter, laugh leaving his lips as he spoke, _"I'll talk to you at your place, but do not step a toe out of that house."_

"I'm already at the diner," she said innocently, quickly correcting herself when there was a lingering silence on the other end of the phone, "with Angela."

_"Angela does not count as protection!" _ He exclaimed, the annoyance of her leaving the house alone only increased by what Sweets just informed him of, _"Christ, Bones!" _Booth stepped out of his office, making his way hastily out of the building to go get his SUV,_ "if you're sitting by the window, move. And don't leave the diner. I'm on my way there."_

"Booth, I can take care of myself," she reminded him, " no one is going to kill me in the Royal Diner, especially when I'm accompanied by someone."

_"People don't have a problem shooting through the windows," _he told her, his voice sharp, piercing through her, _"remember where I was when someone shot at Russ and I through the window? So just, move away from the window, Bones. I'm so pissed at you right now."_

"Well, why are you shouting at me?" Brennan asked, trying to keep her voice at a normal volume, ignoring the comment about Booth and Russ getting shot at.

"_Because you don't **listen**_," he practically hissed, slamming the door of his SUV behind him before he jammed the keys in the ignition, _"don't move. I'll be there in ten minutes."_

"If you gave me a gun we wouldn't have this problem," she pointed out.

_"I'm not having this argument with you."_

"It's not an argument, it's just a simple-"

Brennan stopped talking when she glanced at the screen of her phone, seeing that the call was ended. Feeling internally hurt, she closed her phone and put it back in her purse, growing abnormally quiet as she picked up her purse to move to a different table.

"What happened?" Angela asked, following Brennan to a table a little further out of sight from the windows.

"He hung up on me," Brennan mumbled, her fingers tracing over a pattern in the table, "I don't understand why he gets so angry."

"He's not mad at you," Angela assured her, "he just wants to protect you."

"But I don't _need_ protecting," Brennan sighed, "I am not an invalid, nor do I lack the skills to fight people off. I've taken several self defense classes and I'm trained in Martial Arts. I've been to Iraq, and Rwanda, Ange. I'm not afraid of a street gang."

"You should be," Angela told her, her eyes completely serious, "just because there are people more dangerous than them, doesn't mean that they're a joke. They're one of the most violent gangs in the area, Bren. And you _did_ punch their 'leader' in the face."

"Because he touched me," she defended, "I wasn't just going to let him touch me. And, besides, I have no respect for gang members, especially the ones that try to frighten people into doing what they want. Didn't I explain this to you already?"

"I know, Brennan, but I'm just explaining to you that this isn't something you should take lightly," Angela kept her voice soft, making sure Brennan didn't feel like she and Booth were ganging up on her, "and Booth, he's only trying to help. He yells because he cares."

"Well I don't appreciate it," she brushed off his concern for her, "somebody should inform him that raising his voice doesn't solve anything."

Angela just sighed and shook her head, knowing that Brennan was too stubborn to ever admit that she may be wrong. They sat for a little while in silence before Booth came into the diner, searching for Brennan and Angela, making his way quickly over to them once he saw them sitting quietly and awkwardly at a table in the back.

"Hey, Booth," Angela greeted him cutely, trying to brighten his mood, even though she could tell by the look on his face that doing that wouldn't be an easy task, "you're looking handsome today."

"Today?" Booth asked, playfully, although his voice made no indication of it as he grabbed Brennan's arm gently, "come on, Bones."

Brennan tugged her arm out of his hand, flashing him a semi dirty look as she smoothed down her blouse and picked her bag up off the floor.

"I'll talk to you later, Ange," she told her, tossing some money on the table to pay for her share of their lunch, before she walked out of the diner, taking notice to how Booth quickened his pace when she quickened hers, to make sure he stayed a few steps in front of her.

They walked to the SUV in an awkward silence, neither of them speaking a word when the reached it and opened the door, Booth getting in on the driver's side and Brennan getting in on the passenger's side. The silence continued when Booth started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, neither of them speaking about the big concerns looming over their heads. Brennan was considering it, but when he didn't speak, she thought maybe Sweets hadn't told him. And she knew if she brought it up, it'd only make her look guilty.

"What did you and Sweets talk about?" Brennan finally broke the silence when the tension seemed to fill every inch of the SUV.

Booth glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, slightly surprised by the sound of her voice when it pulled him out of his own mind.

"Nothing," he lied, his right hand holding the steering wheel as he shrugged with his left shoulder, "you know Sweets. He just needed some 'guy advice'. He didn't want you to come because he was embarrassed."

"Of what?" Brennan asked, not completely buying into his lie.

"Well it's not really my place to tell you," Booth reminded her, "like I said, he was embarrassed. And if I tell you, you'll blurt something out in therapy and he'll think I gossip like a teenage girl, which I don't."

"I won't say anything," she promised, "is he ashamed of his size? Because, girls really don't care all that much about-"

"Woah, woah, Bones," Booth yelled over her, cutting her off before she could finish her sentence, "no. Just, no. We're not going to talk about, that, okay? Anything but that."

"I don't know why you get so flustered when that subject comes up," Brennan said, as if that were completely irrational, "it finally got to the point where I can say the word 'sex' and you don't blush, but now, whenever I try to speak with you about size, you act like it's something terrible. It's a completely natural subject, Booth. You, of all people, shouldn't be embarrassed to talk about it. You, excel, in that area. You're almost as big as Sully."

"Jeez!" He exclaimed, his face burning as he shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat, praying that the traffic they were stuck in would just disappear, "Bones!"

Booth had to focus his attention on making sure she didn't pick up on his irritation towards the fact that she'd brought up Sully. He was trying to give her the benefit of the doubt, convincing himself that Sweets was mistaken, but she was making it increasingly harder.

"What?" She asked, defensively, "I'm just saying, size is not the only thing that is important to a woman. For example, you aren't as big as Sully, but I believe that you are a much better partner than he is."

"For the love of God," he mumbled, closing his eyes, since the cars in front of him weren't moving anyway.

"Booth, that was a compliment," she informed him, "you have a way of pleasuring me with your eyes, and your voice, which is something I never experienced with Sully, despite his size, and despite how amazing he was in bed. I never enjoyed tenderness or softness when it came to sexual intercourse, but with you, it's different. I like it with you. It feels _right_ with you. And plus, you give me the best of both worlds. When I want gentle, I can get it, but you also have a playful and rough side, which I greatly admire."

By this point, they were at a complete stand still, and Booth had taken both his hands off the steering wheel, one arm on the arm rest between them, and one propped against the window. Brennan, getting a jittery feeling in her stomach from only her own words, ran her fingers carefully over his arm, which was still covered with his work clothes. Slightly irritated at the barrier between their skin, she pushed the sleeve of his jacket and dress shirt up to reveal the black ink of his tattoo, and pressed a soft kiss to the ink.

"Bones," he groaned in irritation, not feeling in the mood for her affection after his 'session' with Sweets, "I'm driving."

"No you're not, you might as well have the car in park," Brennan pointed out, pressing her lips back to his wrist after she spoke.

"That's not the point," he told her, taking his arm gently back from her to put his hand back on the steering wheel when the traffic finally started to inch forward, "I'm still operating a motor vehicle, which means I have to watch the road, unless you want to get into an accident."

Brennan crossed her arms over her chest, and stayed completely silent for the rest of the ride, a little surprised when Booth didn't even attempt to fill the silence at any point throughout the rest of the drive back to his house. She squinted her eyes slightly as she examined his expression once they pulled up into his driveway, and he removed the keys from the ignition, shoving them back into his pocket before he opened the door and stepped out of the car. Opening her own door, Brennan got out and followed close behind him, not speaking a word until they were back in his house, and she'd shut the front door behind her.

"You're angry with me," she observed, placing her purse on the floor.

"I'm not," he promised, arching his shoulders to stretch them out now that he was out of the car and back in his house, "I'm just," he searched for an excuse, "tired."

"That's probably because we had very draining intercourse this morning. And by draining, I mean thoroughly satisfying and passionate."

"Christ, Bones, you're very, obsessive, today," he pointed out, the word 'obsessive' sounding a lot more harsh than he meant it, "maybe that wasn't the best word choice, but I don't really know how else to explain it. Have you stopped thinking about sex at all today?"

"Well I was barely awake for five minutes before we had intercourse again," she accused, not giving him a 'yes' or 'no' answer, "one second, I'm sleeping, and then the next second, you're on top of me again, and we're engaging in sexual intercourse _while_ I'm on the phone."

"Don't even pretend you didn't want to," Booth had to laugh bitterly at how she was trying to turn this around on him.

"I did want to," she confirmed, "but you couldn't have waited three seconds for me to get off the phone?"

"No," he said honestly, his voice flat, "because you picked up the phone when it was very clear that we were about to 'get down', and I wasn't going to pause so you could have a nice conversation. So I just decided to take matters into my own hands and go about our business."

"By initiating intercourse when I wasn't paying attention?"

Booth stepped closer to her, his expression stone cold as he stared her in the eyes. Brennan bit int inside of her lip, feeling slightly intimidated, but slightly turned on by his darkness when he looked so seriously at her. Taking a step back, she pressed her back against the wall, submitting to the broad man standing over her.

"Are you complaining?" He asked, in a husky voice, that made Brennan's cheeks burn.

"Maybe I am," Brennan said, suggestively, even though she had to swallow the lump that rose in her throat before she did, feeling a mixture between nervous and aroused.

She gasped a little when he easily, and less than gently, grabbed her face with just one hand. His thumb pressed hard against the left side of her jaw bone as his four other fingers practically squeezed the right side, forcing the top of her hair to brush against the wall when he tilted her face up slightly to look at him. Brennan could feel her heart pounding in her chest in response to his roughness. With most people, she'd be afraid if they grabbed her roughly by the mandible, but with Booth, it turned her on. The slight pain from the pressure against her sensitive jaw was arousing to her, as she let out a soft whimper and embraced the feeling.

"You like this?" He asked, "do you like when I play rough with you, Temperance? Does Sully do this when you two take each other on his kitchen counter, or in the back of his car? When you two have hot, meaningless, sex?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Brennan squeaked, her breathing hitching when he closed the small gap between their bodies, his chest pressing to hers, and his hand still clutching her face, "I don't love Sully," she whimpered in pleasure when his grip on her jaw tightened, "I love _you_, Booth."

She wasn't sure why she loved this dark side of Booth. The sensation of his thumb pressing hard against the left side of her mandible was one that she was growing to very thoroughly enjoy, while most people wouldn't have enjoyed it at all. She longed for him to squeeze her tighter, press his body closer to hers, even though it was as close as it was going to get. She only gasped loudly when his lips hungrily claimed hers, releasing her face to cup it roughly between his hands, his kisses not as gentle as they normally were, his tongue attempting to shove between her lips, as opposed to waiting for her to grant it access. She parted her lips, their tongues fighting for dominance in the kiss before Booth pulled away, only to take a breath and crash his lips roughly back against hers.

"Seeley," she moaned into his mouth, when she felt his hand slide up her pencil skirt and caress the skin of her inner thigh softly and teasingly, "please, Booth. I-I-...please"

Brennan took his hand and attempted to help him navigate his way further up her leg, but only let out a frustrated growl when his hand left her leg all together.

"You're right, Temperance," he growled against her lips, sandwiching her between his body and the wall, to the point where she had no escape route.

"About what?" She asked, snaking her fingers into his hair as they kissed.

When Booth didn't answer her right away, she gave a rough tug at the dark locks, only causing him to growl again and bite her bottom lip, not as soft as usual, but still softly. Brennan struggled for her breath, giving a whimper of protest when his lips left hers and his hand wandered away from her thigh, her body trembling when he pressed his forehead to hers, listening to her ragged breathing, which was in sync with his at this point. She gave a final tug at his hair before she moved her hands down, untucking his dress shirt and slipping her hands under it to press against the warm skin of his abdomen, hearing a small groan from his throat when she raked her fingernails across the skin.

"I _am_ mad at you," he told her, answering her question, "I am _so_ mad at you. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't go get your bag of clothes, and put them out on the porch?"

"Because you are being irrational," she dug her fingernails hard into his skin, only causing another groan, as opposed to the pain she was aiming for, "I haven't done anything."

"You're a genius, Bones," he reminded her, his fingers subconsciously slipping up her shirt as well, only lightly running the tips of his fingers over her soft, creamy, skin, "I'm not going to believe you when you play dumb. I'm not as stupid as you think."

"I'm not playing dumb," she growled, arching into him as best she could, moaning from a mixture of everything she was feeling at the moment.

"Sure you are, Temperance," Booth growled right back at her, his ever present 'cocky' belt buckle digging into her hip as he held her against the wall, and he felt her reaching for it, only to slide one hand out of her shirt and swat hers away from the red metal.

Brennan had just touched the little white rooster before his hand swatted at hers, chasing it away from the dangerous territory as her breath caressed his lips.

"Tell me what I did, Seeley," she hissed, her eyes burning through his, "tell me what I did, or I swear, I will walk out that door right now, and never come back."

Booth leaned up, earning another whimper of protest from Brennan at the lack of body contact, as she slid her hands out of his shirt and he grabbed her by the wrists, pinning her back to the wall by her small wrists, but not stepping as close this time.

"It's more something I have to ask you, rather than tell you," his voice was dark, as she submitted under his strong hands, waiting for the question, as she squirmed slightly, moaning softly in anticipation, only to be stopped in her tracks when he threw out the question, "how long have you been banging Sully behind my back?"


	37. You Don't Trust Me

**A/N: Again, thanking everyone who alerted/reviewed/added to their favorites. I have become one of those people who checks their email every three seconds on their cell phone when they're out, since I'm always checking to see if I got any feedback. xD So thank you all, because I love signing into my email and seeing new feedback. =]**

**Here's a long chapter for you guys. =] Why? Because I wanted a little teeny tiny smidge of angst, but I didn't want to drag it out for seventy chapters. We get enough angst on the actual show, don't we? Why should I make you all suffer any more than us Bones fans already do? xD**

Chapter Thirty-Seven:

"You Don't Trust Me"

Brennan jerked her wrists roughly out of his grip, placing her hands on his chest only to shove him backwards, the anger obvious in her actions.

"Why would you even _ask_ me that?" She hissed, sidestepping away from the wall, "you know, don't answer that. Sweets told you, didn't he? That's what you two talked about. I should have known. I should have just, trusted my own mind instead of trusting _you_."

"You say that like trusting me is such a horrible thing," he chuckled darkly.

"You don't trust me," she pointed out, "how am I supposed to trust you when you can't trust me? When you believe what Sweets tells you instead of having faith in the person you claim to love. Sweets! Since when do you even consider taking him seriously?"

"Since he heard you moaning Sully's name on the phone," he pointed out, "it's not that I don't trust you, Bones," his tone was softer now, seeming much less angry than before, "it's just that, it makes sense. I know how you get when it comes to 'monogamy'. You're all, 'I don't think we're meant to be a monogamous species', and then you start with all the anthropological hubbub explaining why we aren't. And truth be told, Bones, after all that, I wouldn't really be surprised if you were seeing other people."

Brennan felt a painful pressure in her chest when she heard the words leave his lips, his confession leaving her stunned and in emotional pain. Had he doubted her since the first kiss? The one in front of her house, in the thunderstorm? Or was this recent? Was that the reason he was so reluctant to make love to her for the first time on Valentine's Day? All the questions were racing through her mind as she blinked back the tears, using every bit of control she had to not let him see that he'd gotten the best of her and made her cry.

"Bones," Booth's voice was soft when he saw the expression she wore, "th-that came out wrong. I just meant...I didn't mean it the way you're thinking," he stumbled over his words.

"No, I think that was exactly what you meant," Brennan said, keeping her voice cool, maintaining her composure, "you don't trust me. You never have. You didn't believe me when I first told you that I only wanted to be with you, and you still don't. What do I have to do, Booth? I've given myself to you completely, in every way possible. Isn't that enough to assure you that I'm not going to change my mind about remaining monogamous?"

"I do trust you, Temperance. One hundred percent," he promised.

"No, no, you don't," Brennan shook her head, backing away from him when he tried to step closer to her, her voice quivering with the cry that was aching in her chest, "because as soon as someone became skeptical of my faithfulness, you bought right into it. You might try to convince yourself that you believe in me, but you don't. Because if you did, you wouldn't have listened to Sweets. You would have known in your 'magic gut' that he was mistaken."

"I shouldn't have listened to Sweets. I should have trusted you."

"But you didn't."

"It was a stupid mistake."

"Yes, it was. And just so you're aware, what Sweets thought was 'Sully' was in reality 'Seeley'. I was having intercourse with _you_, Booth. I was not being unfaithful."

Booth felt a wave of guilt wash over him when she told him the reality of what had happened on the phone with Sweets. How did he miss that one? He knew she was on the phone with Sweets that morning when they were together. That should have clicked. And normally, it would have, but he was too hurt by even the possibility of Brennan sleeping with Sully, that the last thing his mind was doing was being logical. Every time he'd try to think of a scenario that would have made sense, the thoughts were just replaced with the images of Brennan in bed with Sully, making love with him the same way she had with Booth. He couldn't stand the thought of _his_ Bones with his former friend. He couldn't stand the thought of Sully touching her, kissing her, making her purr and moan his first name when he found her sensitive spots.

Brennan, as much as she was trying not to cry, felt a few tears slip down her cheeks after she spoke, unable to blink them back any longer. Without hesitation, she reached up to swipe them away with the sleeve of her shirt, sniffing as she dabbed at her cheeks.

"Are you satisfied?" She asked, feeling foolish for letting him make her cry like that, "Is that what you needed? Did you need me to inform you of how terribly inaccurate Sweets' assumption was before you believed me? Were you wanting me to fall to my knees in front of you and sob, swearing that I love you and only you and beg you not to leave me?"

"No, Bones, of course not," Booth whispered, his voice highly apologetic, "the last thing I wanted was to make you cry."

Booth reached his hand up to wipe the stray tears from her cheeks, only to be rejected by Brennan, who just blocked them with her own hand before pushing his away.

"Don't touch me," she whispered.

"Bones," his whisper was pleading, "I'm sorry."

Ignoring his apology, Brennan only turned away from him and disappeared into his bedroom. Booth hung back in the living room, giving her the space she needed for a few minutes. When he heard, what sounding like, things being rearranged coming from the bedroom, curiosity got the best of him, and he followed the path she'd just taken, opening the door, which she'd shut behind her, to see her kneeling in front of her bag, shoving articles of her clothing in.

"Bones, what are you doing?" He asked, kneeling next to her.

Brennan stayed silent, not reacting to his presence as she stood back up and went back to the closet, pulling the last of her blouses off of their hangers, cradling them in her arms as she kneeled back in front of her bag and folded them before placing them back in.

"Bones, what are you doing?" He tried again, his voice slightly more demanding than it had been a few seconds before when she stood up and disappeared into the bathroom, opening cabinets and removing things like women's deodorant and perfume.

She entered the bedroom again, only to pull her make up bag out of the larger bag, bringing it back to the bathroom with her, where she put her hygiene related products in the decorative make up bag, zipping it closed afterwards.

"Bones," he demanded, "what the hell are you doing?"

Brennan put her make up bag back and zipped the big bag closed, just looking down at where it was placed on the floor for a minute before she picked it up, hauling it over her shoulder.

"Leaving," she said, simply, leaving the bedroom and starting towards the front door, "I'm going to call Angela and ask if she can pick me up and take me home. I'll wait outside until she gets here, but I want to go home. I _am_ going home."

"Like hell you are," Booth quickened his pace to step in front of the door, preventing her from opening the door as he pressed a hand to it, holding it closed just incase she managed to slip past him, "you're not going home so you can be alone. It's not going to happen."

"Booth," she complained, even though her voice was more sharp than whiny, "you have no right to keep me here against my will. I want to go home. I don't want to be here."

"That really sucks then, Bones, because you're not leaving," he said, seriously, "I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"I don't want to be around you at the moment," she practically hissed, glaring into his eyes with intense anger, "find someone else to babysit me if you're so concerned. I don't mind staying with somebody, but I do not want to stay _here_."

"Bones..."

"I'm serious, Booth!" She raised her voice.

There was a short silence between them as Booth let out a sigh, his gaze traveling to the floor as he ran a hand through his hair in thought.

"Take me to the lab," Brennan offered, trying to meet him halfway, "I'll sleep here so you feel like I'm safe, but I'm not going to just 'pal around' with you. I'll stay at the lab. They have tight security. And then you can just bring me back here at night to sleep."

Brennan could tell by the look on his face that he was hurt, but she honestly, at that moment, didn't care. She loved Booth, but she couldn't stand the fact that he didn't believe her when she said it. And as much as she loved him, if they couldn't trust each other, then it would never work out the way he wanted it to. All they wanted to do was try, give 'them' a chance. They did, and it proved that they weren't compatible as anything more than friends. But could they still be friends after this? Brennan only grew angry at her mental question. She didn't even _want_ to be friends with him anymore. She'd work with him, because she had to, but they would only be partners, nothing more. Not friends, not best friends, and certainly not lovers. At least for a little while.

"I need time, Booth," she lowered her voice when she saw that she had hurt him emotionally, "_we_ need time. I cannot be with somebody who doesn't believe my feelings for them. When I told you I loved you, I meant it, and it upsets me to know that every time we kissed, every time we made love, even last night, you still had doubts."

"I'm not the one with doubts," Booth's voice was just as soft as hers, but had that deep, melancholy, rasp to it, "when we made love last night," he paused, trying to think of the words to describe it, "you-you can't fake that kind of thing, Bones. I know you love me. I feel it, and see it, and hear it. It's you. You don't have faith that I love you. That's why you were afraid I wasn't physically attracted to you."

"Booth, take me to the lab," she whispered, feeling an ache in her throat when he spoke to her, knowing, somewhere deep inside, that he was right, but she was just too stubborn to admit it.

Instead of opening the door and going to the car with her, as she wanted him to, Booth wrapped his arms around her and crashed his lips into hers for a desperate kiss, both not hesitating to part their lips and let the other explore their mouth. Brennan didn't realize what was going on until she felt his tongue caress gently over hers, causing her to moan angelically into his mouth, reminding her that they were sharing a passionate kiss in his living room when she was trying to tell him that she wanted to take a break. She pressed her hand to his chest to push him back, but found that her body was rebelling against her mind, making her hand just cling desperately to the fabric of his shirt. Both could feel the difference in this kiss compared to other ones they'd shared. This one tasted of sorrow, pain, and desperation. It tasted like goodbye.

"I'm sorry," Brennan mumbled against Booth's lips, her hand finally pushing gently against his chest to push him away, until their lips disconnected. Brennan's lips were still wet from the open mouthed kiss, and she could still taste him on her tongue. She hadn't even noticed she was crying until she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand to rid her lips of Booth's taste, and felt her cheeks damp with salty tears. "I, can't."

"Can't what?" Booth asked, his voice in a whisper, as he took her face gently between his hands, wiping her tears away with his thumbs, listening closely, getting only a small, grim, whimper in response to his question, "You can't what, Temperance?"

"Take me to the lab, please, Booth," she sniffed, mentally scolding herself to stop crying, even though her body disobeyed and just let the tears keep streaming down her cheeks. She grew frustrated when he ignored her, "Booth, please. Take me to the lab. It isn't a request. Just, take me to the lab."

"Don't tell me you didn't feel that," he whispered, "if we were really going to break up, it wouldn't be this easy. All this Sully crap was just bad communication. It's not going to end what we have, Bones. If we ever do break up, it's not going to be like this."

"We're not breaking up," Brennan sniffed, "we just, need a break."

"Bones," his voice was pleading.

"Booth," Brennan squeezed her eyes shut, her voice exasperated, "I'm begging you, just take me to the lab. I need to be alone."

"Fine," Booth reluctantly agreed, his eyes having limited life behind them as he stared into hers.

Before he could let go of her face, Brennan leaned up and claimed his lips hungrily once more, feeling his body press to hers in response, a small groan audible from his chest. She whimpered desperately against his lips when she managed to gain enough self control to pull away from him, a small sob escaping her throat as she wrapped her arms around him and leaned into his chest. Booth caught her in the embrace, his hands rubbing small, comforting, circles into her back as she took a deep breath and pressed her cheek to his chest, her arms tightening around his body as she cried. He only spoke once she grew silent, her crying stopping as she just held onto him, as if her life depended on it.

"This is very unpleasant," she told him, taking a deep, shaking breath, "I, don't like this at all. I don't like being angry with you."

"Then don't be angry with me," he tried, "Bones, I'm sorry that I took Sweets' word when he had no idea what he was talking about. I was just being stupid. I wasn't thinking."

"I don't want to be angry with you," she promised, "but I am. This feeling is sort of foreign to me. I don't desire to be around you. All I want is to be away from you. It's like, one part of me loves you and wants you, but the other can't stand the sight of you."

"The feeling 'll pass," he promised, "just, stay with me. We'll do something together. Whatever you want. Hell, if you want to squint at bones, I'll be right next to you. But I don't want to lose you, and I can tell that I am. If we take a break, I'm gonna lose you, Bones."

Brennan shook her head and let go of him, standing back up straight as she wiped the last of the tears off her cheeks and took a deep breath.

"Just," she paused, swallowing the ache that rose in her throat when he confessed his fears of losing her, "just, take me to the lab, Booth. I need to think."

**(line break)**

Brennan was in limbo, working on her third case of the day, unaware that she'd been there for quite some time, and it was already almost eleven. When she came into work, she'd just told Cam that she was feeling better and decided that work would get her mind off of her headache. She was a mixture of relieved and grateful when Cam just nodded and believed the complete lie, letting her go off and do her thing, even though, in the back of her mind, Brennan had to wonder if Cam actually believed her, or if she just knew something was bothering her and didn't press the issue. About halfway through the third case, Brennan heard the familiar clicking of Angela's heels enter the door behind her.

"Sweetie," Angela used a soft and comforting tone, "are you okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," Brennan lied, her eyes not leaving the bones laid out in front of her.

Angela just gave her the 'you're not fooling anyone' look and stepped next to her, gazing down at the table when Brennan made no effort to initiate eye contact.

"What happened?" Angela asked.

"Nothing, Ange," Brennan responded, a slight twinge of attitude in her voice.

"Brennan, you can talk to me. I'm your best friend."

Brennan sighed and set one of the bones down, pressing her hands against the table as she leaned forward and drew in a deep breath, letting it out in a long sight before she spoke.

"Booth and I are taking a break," she said, calmly, "I'm still staying with him, because he's needlessly protective, but I'm just sleeping there, and then going somewhere safe during the day. I made it very clear to him that I'm spending as little time with him as possible."

Angela's eyes widened when Brennan sounded so nonchalant about the whole thing.

"So this is how it ends?" She asked, "years and years of building up feelings, crashing into each other in a frenzy of love and passion, sharing four amazing weeks together, then breaking up as soon as you hit a tiny bump in the road?"

"It sounds much worse when you put it like that," Brennan mumbled, "but the evidence shows that it will not be able to work, Angela. Booth and I are too opposite. We clash. We don't make sense together. It's like trying to stick two of the same poles together on a magnet. You can try as much as you want, but the two will never go together."

"Sweetie, please tell me this is some sort of sick joke," Angela sighed, putting her hands over her face when she heard Brennan jabbering about how she and Booth weren't meant to be, "you and Booth were practically tailor made for each other. Sure, you're opposites, but that's what makes you compatible. You balance each other out."

"That's not how it works," Brennan shook her head, "two people in a relationship are not meant to balance each other out, they're meant to combine. Booth and I don't. We never will. We gave it a shot, like an experiment, and it just didn't work out the way we anticipated. He's meant to be with someone like Rebecca, or Cam, or Tessa, not me."

"Brennan," Angela sighed, "don't give up on you two."

"I'm not. Not yet at least," Brennan told her, "we're not breaking up, just merely taking a break. Maybe if we just take a small break, we'll see whether it's right or not."

Angela went to speak again, but was only cut off by the sound of Booth's voice behind them, causing Brennan to jump slightly and set the last bone down on the table.

"You ready to go, Bones?" He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Brennan just nodded as she started to put the bones back in their bin, not bothering finishing that night since she was tired, and would work more efficiently in the morning.

"Just give me a minute," she said, placing them carefully where they belonged, as Booth stepped out of limbo to give her and Angela their space.

"Use your heart, honey," Angela whispered in her ear, before leaving limbo, not even giving Brennan a chance to rebut with her 'your heart is only a muscle' argument.

Once she was finished, Brennan stepped back out into the lab where Booth was waiting for her, not hesitating to start walking towards the doors, without saying a word to him. They were both quiet as they walked to and entered the car, both of them giving the other their space, even though Booth was itching to just speak to her, beg her not to go through with this whole 'break' idea. Brennan, however, did not have any desire to speak with him, as she leaned her head against the window and inhaled the scent of take-out food.

"I picked up Chinese if you want any," Booth informed her, as they drove in silence, the only sounds audible being the ones of the wind and cars passing them.

"I'm not all that hungry," she told him, not daring to look at him.

And those were the last word that either of them spoke for the rest of the car ride, and for the first hour that they were back at his place. After a little while, when Booth was in the shower, an exhausted Brennan gathered up a pillow and some blankets and dragged them to the couch, which she was planning on making her bed that night. She hastily changed into sweat pants and a tank top before going back out to the living room, fluffing up the pillow before she propped it against the arm of the couch, able to hear the shower water cut off in the bathroom. Sighing at the thought of Booth, she stretched out across the couch and rested her head against the pillow, pulling the blanket up over her shoulders, inhaling the sweet scent that lingered on the warm blanket, and was uniquely Booth. Brennan closed her eyes, knowing that she'd never be able to fall asleep on the cold, lonely, couch, and was prepared for a night of insomnia.

After Booth got dressed and left the bathroom, he flicked on the bedroom light, expecting to see Brennan curled up comfortably on 'her' side of the bed, and was slightly surprised when the bed stood empty.

"Bones?" He asked, opening the bedroom door and poking his head out into the hallway, "Bones? You here?"

"Mhm," Brennan mumbled, pulling the blanket tight around her as she let her eyes flutter open, scanning the room for him, "Booth? I'm in here."

Booth turned the corner and stepped into the living room, his shoulders relaxing when he saw her laying comfortably on the couch. He leaned against the wall, not wanting to approach her, since she didn't seem to want his attention just then.

"You don't have to sleep on the couch," he told her.

"Well I'm not going to banish you from your own bedroom, Booth," Brennan shrugged, subtly telling him that she was not going to be sharing a bed with him that night, since she figured that was what he was implying when he offered her the bed, "I'll be fine on the couch. You have a bad back. You need the bed."

Booth wanted to say something, about how they could sleep in bed together, but he decided against it, since she made it very clear that she didn't want to. Instead, he just gave her a half smile and removed his hand from the wall so he was no longer leaning against it.

"Alright," he said, not having the strength to argue with her, "night, Bones."

"Goodnight," Brennan mumbled, watching Booth as he flipped the light switch, turning off the light in the living room to give her the darkness she needed to sleep.

Brennan could hear the bedroom door shut behind him when he went back to his room, and she shifted restlessly on the couch, laying on her side. After a couple hours of just twisting and turning on the small couch, she knew that her theory was proving to be true, that she wasn't going to be able to sleep that night. She longed to have Booth's warm body next to hers, the way it had been for the past few days. Sleeping next to someone warm was a feeling she was growing accustomed to, and the lack of person next to her was making sleep difficult. After another hour, she finally had enough of her insomnia. She stood up from the couch, leaving her pillow and blanket there, and silently felt her way around the dark house until she found Booth's bedroom, twisting the doorknob and silently pulling the door open. She pressed it back shut, making sure it made as little noise as possible, before she felt her way to the bed. Brennan sighed with relief when she slid into the queen sized bed, able to feel Booth's presence even from her side of the mattress. Without hesitation, she scooted closer to his back until she could feel the heat of his body radiating onto hers. Her face subconsciously nuzzled into his shoulder blade, as she let out a soft breath to caress the skin, silently grateful that he decided to sleep shirtless that night.

"Mmm," she heard Booth mumble groggily.

Brennan hushed him gently as she slipped her arms around his waist.

"Bones," he mumbled, his eyes opening halfway when he felt her arms around him.

"Shh," Brennan hushed him again, nuzzling against his warm skin, which comforted her to the point where she could already feel her eyes slipping shut in exhaustion, "go back to sleep."

"You're here," he observed, ignoring her orders, as he craned his neck over his shoulder to glance at the woman behind him, who had her cheek pressed against his bare back.

"Only to sleep," she whispered, already teetering on the edge of consciousness.

Booth turned his neck back right and rested his head back against the pillows, closing his eyes again, sighing lightly at the feeling of Brennan's breath caressing his back.

"Good enough for me," he mumbled, unable to form a full sentence before he drifted back to sleep, Brennan falling asleep only seconds after he did.


	38. This Doesn't Seem Ethical

**A/N: Sorry about the delay, folks. I fell asleep last night before I got to finish the chapter. xD I gotta make this quick, because I have to leave, but thank you to everyone who's been reviewing, and who added this to their favorites/alerts. I adore feedback. =]**

**Apologies for any errors, again, because I didn't really have time to edit thoroughly. **

Chapter Thirty-Eight:

"This Doesn't Seem Ethical"

Early in the morning, the sun peeked through the blinds of Booth's bedroom, casting lines of light on the two sleeping people cuddled close to each other, despite the fact that they were supposed to be on a break. Brennan shifted under his arm, which had found it's way across her body and was holding her close as she slept, only to snuggle closer to the warm body she felt next to her. The room was quiet, the only sounds audible being the sound of their light breathing, and the occasional ruffle of sheets and covers when one of them would shift a little, making sure not to inch too far away from the other. When she felt the sun on her back, Brennan allowed her eyes to open, taking notice to the fact that Booth was sleeping next to her.

A part of her wanted to slip from under his arm, and run back to the mini bed that she made herself on the couch, but another part of her wanted to stay with him, under the mass of sheets and blankets, curled up tight against his body. As much as she wanted to do the second one, she knew that she couldn't.

_Booth is mad at me_, she reminded herself, _no, wait, no he isn't. I'm mad at him though. Actually, I don't really feel all that mad. Either way, I can't let him wake up and see me clinging to him, since he'll think that means I forgive him. So, of course, I have to go back to the couch. But I really would rather stay here. _

Brennan was pulled out of her thoughts when she felt Booth shift slightly, and she peeked up at him, slightly startled when she saw his open chocolate brown eyes looking down at her. She wasn't expecting him to be awake. Blinking the tired fog out of her eyes, Brennan just looked into his eyes, unable to break their gaze. She opened her mouth to speak, but, without words, only closed it again to continue, what may have looked to an outsider, like their staring contest. Instead, she just placed her hand on his warm chest, sliding it slowly downwards to his torso, stopping it on his rib cage. Her eyes looked as if they were seeking for his approval, but she noticed no change in his expression. So, without waiting for him to respond to her past action, Brennan slid her hand down further, slowing her pace when she traced his abdomen, knowing it was one of his favorite parts of the body. Her hand stopped completely when she reached the waistline of his pants, only tracing the top of the pants as opposed to going further.

Booth felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten in response to her touch as he tilted his head down to watch her hand in it's path, holding back a groan and trying to control his erratic heartbeat. He knew she could see the dilation of his pupils, and the flushing of his cheeks when her hand stopped right above the waistline of his pants. Brennan had to laugh softly at his subconscious reaction to her touch, as she rested her chin against his chest, never breaking the stare between the two when she did so. Brennan opened her mouth to speak once again, but was cut off, only a gasp escaping her throat when she felt Booth's fingers slide down the front of her shirt, applying an even amount of pressure to her stomach when he reached her waistline. She knew her eyes were having the same reaction that his were when he gave her a cocky half smirk, before slipping his fingers under the fabric of her tank top, the cool tips of his fingers contacting the warm, previously covered, skin of her stomach.

Brennan sucked in a breath as she furrowed her eyebrow skeptically at him, her fingers pressing into his skin. He mocked her actions once again, pressing his fingers into her skin as well. As much as she would never admit it, Brennan liked this game. She smirked and trailed her fingers back up his chest, feeling his fingers do the same to her body, slipping out from under the tank top when the built-in sports bra prevented his fingers from going to her jaw bone, where she had stopped hers on him. Only using her fingers as a guide, Brennan took him by surprise when the tips of her fingers coaxed him down to her lips, allowing her to claim them in a soft kiss, her lips completely still against his when they first met, waiting for his reaction.

Booth wasn't sure if he was supposed to react, his body still when her breath caressed his lips shortly before pressing the good morning kiss to his lips. His lips felt like stone against hers when they didn't budge, but Brennan knew it was only because he was unsure of what she wanted. Making it quite clear, Brennan simply opened her mouth against his, the sudden warm breath against his pursed lips seeming to melt the ice that had frozen them stiff as he began to kiss her back, his tongue subconsciously gliding into her mouth. Brennan slid one of her hands behind his head to hold it close to hers, making sure he couldn't recoil from the kiss once he realized what was going on. Booth, however, had no intentions of anything like that as he kissed her, his tongue avoiding hers as it explored her mouth.

Brennan let out a small 'hmpf' sound into his mouth as her talented tongue searched for his, flicking at it softly when she found it, only to feel it recoil back into his mouth when she teased. Slightly irritated at the action, she followed his lead, letting her tongue meet up with his again, stroking it gently as it remained still. She wanted to say something, but couldn't bring herself to utter the first words of the morning and potentially kill the mood, as she just continued to encourage his tongue with hers, only getting the response of him breaking the kiss.

"Bones," Booth finally spoke, his breath slightly coming in soft pants, "we shouldn't."

"Why?" Brennan asked, putting her index finger in her mouth, only to dampen it before she traced it softly over the top of his arm, causing him to groan in anticipation.

"Because," he groaned, slightly annoyed that she had to make this so difficult, "you said you wanted to take a break. This doesn't seem very appropriate."

"You're right, it's not," Brennan agreed, coming to her senses once the effects of the kiss wore off, sitting up and pressing her back against the headboard, "I should value my own suggestion. If a break is what we need, then I will not pressure you into intercourse, or even just sensual kissing for that matter. Although, that was highly satisfying."

"It was hot," he agreed, in less 'squint-y' terms, sitting up next to her, "very, very, hot."

"It would have been hotter if you let me touch you where I wanted," she told him, referring to what lay under his pajama pants, "and if you would have let me kiss you the way I desired. You're very irritating sometimes, Booth."

"What did _I_ do?" He asked, defensively, "because I wouldn't let you 'feel me up' in your early morning hormonal frenzy, that makes me irritating?"

"No," Brennan said, her tone lowering, returning to a soft and unsure tone, "I'm confused, Booth. We're supposed to be taking a break, like you said, but, I don't know. I keep wanting to just, touch you, and kiss you, and I'm not sure why. And then, when I know that we're not in a good place, my chest hurts. Like my heart is being stepped on, even though, again, hearts don't have anything to really do with love."

Booth just looked at her seriously, not really sure how to respond to her confession, since he was a little taken back by it all. His mouth was slightly agape as he looked at her, his mind searching for words that would reassure her, or comfort her in some way.

"I love you so much," she continued, when he didn't respond quickly enough for her, "it's foreign to me. I'm not sure if I like it or not. People speak of love like it is some incredible thing, but I'm not entirely sure if I agree. I don't like the pain in my chest."

Brennan shivered when he pressed his index finger and middle finger to the center of her chest, rubbing the hard bone that lay there softly, causing her to whimper.

"I'm gonna make it go away," he promised, pressing one soft kiss to the spot he was rubbing before he continued, "I'm gonna make the pain go away, Temperance."

"How?" Brennan asked, fearing that he was breaking up with her, since that seemed to be the only logical way that he could make the pain in her chest leave.

Booth pressed another soft kiss to the center of her chest, but let his lips linger there that time, as opposed to moving back up to look into her eyes again.

"Let me feel you," he slipped his fingers gently up the front of her shirt, feeling her body erupt in goose bumps from just the simple touch, "and kiss you," he pressed a third kiss to her chest, "and talk to you," he paused, his breath caressing her skin, "you need to relax," he whispered, when she tensed up under him, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know," Brennan promised, since she did know, for a fact, that he would never hurt her.

She sighed, her body shivering involuntarily when his fingers caressed her waist and his lips traveled over the patches of skin on her upper chest that were uncovered by her tank top_, _her fingers instinctively reaching for the fabric on his shirt, mentally cursing him for not wearing a shirt to sleep that night. Instead, she just let her fingers clutch onto his skin, which wasn't as easy as clutching onto his shirt, but would manage for the time being.

"Is everything okay up there?" Booth asked, half playfully, his lips traveling over her skin at a slow and steady pace, as his fingers just caressed at her waist softly.

"Mhm," Brennan purred, slipping her arms around his waist to hold him close, while tracing her fingers up and down his back at a slow and steady pace.

Booth let his lips travel upwards now, causing Brennan to moan gently in surprise, a smile playing at the edges of her lips when his mouth moved to her ear, kissing that little sensitive spot under her earlobe gently before he spoke.

"Are you going to let me make love to you, Temperance?" he whispered the question in her ear, causing her to whimper lightly at the words and arch into him.

"No," she whispered, although her body language gave a completely different response, her chest pressing to his as she arched all the way into him, her fingers in his hair, "no."

"Why not?" His question was simple, his fingers running slowly down her stomach as he nuzzled the skin of her neck softly, waiting for a response.

"Because people who are on a break do not make love," she told him, her response just as simple as his question as her heart pounded in her chest, enabling him to feel it against his skin.

Booth had to laugh softly at her logical response, his chuckle low and raspy in her ear as he held her hips between his hands and purposely kissed a sensitive spot on her neck, knowing she'd unintentionally try to buck her hips towards him, but fail when he held them steady. As he predicted, she did, and gave a frustrated moan when her hips didn't move. Taking notice to her frustration, he let go of her hips and pressed a kiss to the same spot, letting her hips press to his, hearing a moan of approval from the woman under him when their bodies touched.

"Make love to me," she moaned, having lost control of all her senses by this point, yanking at the button and zipper on his jeans, "make love to me right now."

"Bones, this isn't how you make love," he reminded her, taking note to her urgency.

"I don't care," she growled, digging her fingernails into his shoulder blade.

Brennan's jaw hung slightly open when he removed his hands from her shirt and sat up straight, just looking at her with a stern expression. A shocked Brennan sat up as well, her chest rising and falling erratically with her breathing as she fixed her hair.

"Why'd you stop?" She asked, a look of confusion on her face.

"Because, Bones, we're just coming off a huge fight, and I don't want to just have hate sex because we were mad at each other," he explained, "if we're going to do this, I'm showing you how much I love you, not just having a quick hit-and-quit or a roll in the hay."

Brennan was going to snap at him, and tell him he was being ridiculous, but she actually saw his point, so she remained quiet instead. She knew how Booth viewed sex. He viewed it as two people trying to break the laws of physics by becoming one. He wouldn't want to just have revenge sex, he'd want it to be special. And what always managed to surprise Brennan, was that even though they'd made love twice, both times were equally special in their own ways.

They both stayed quiet for a minute, until Brennan gathered her emotions up and just simply laid back, pressing her back flat to the mattress again. Booth glanced over his shoulder at her, furrowing an eyebrow in confusion as she looked up at him with desperate eyes.

"Bones, what are ya' doing?" He asked, letting out a long sigh.

Brennan kept her eyes locked on him from her submissive position, fixing her hair, which was now sprawled out all over the pillow, before she spoke.

"I want you to make love to me now," she informed him, "if you still want to."

Booth's lips turned up into a half smile, causing Brennan to smile as well.

"Hold your arms up," he instructed her, after a drawn out pause.

Brennan did as she was asked and held her arms up, allowing him to slip the tank top over her shoulders and let it flutter to the floor, waiting a few seconds before pressing an open mouthed kiss to her stomach, causing her to squirm slightly under him.

"Do you love me, Bones?" He asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear her say it.

"Yes," Brennan whispered, moaning softly when his mouth would hit her skin in a certain way, "do _you_ love _me_?"

Booth paused and peeked up at her, seeing her looking down at him with flushed cheeks. He sat up, once again, and Brennan gave a small, frustrated sigh, thinking he changed his mind again. She looked up at him desperately, only to see him motion for her to come closer. Brennan obeyed and scooted up to rest between his legs, resting her back against his chest as his arms circled her waist. She was comfortable in Booth's lap, with his arms wrapped around her waist, but craned her neck to look at him when he unwrapped his arms from around her, taking off the St. Christopher medal that hung around his neck, and slipped it over her head, so it hung around hers now. Brennan had a confused expression on her face as she untucked her hair from the chain and fixed it so the medal was centered.

"This doesn't seem ethical," she informed him, her fingers toying with the medal that felt foreign around her neck, "I'm against Christianity."

Booth had to laugh lightly at her rejection of the gift, due to her religious beliefs.

"Just play along, okay, Bones?" Booth chuckled lightly, running his thumb gently over the back of her hand that was touching the medal, "don't think of it as a symbol of Christianity, think of it as a symbol of, well, me."

Brennan's lips turned up into a small smile, looking into his eyes as hers glimmered at him gratefully.

"I believe I'll be able to manage that," she said, moving her hand away from medal, letting it settle in it's new place on her chest.

Booth gave her an appreciative smile before he ran his fingers gently down her cheek, stopping under her chin to tilt her head back up to look at him again. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips, his other hand finding it's way to her waist.

"Come 'ere, Bones," he whispered, the hand he had placed on her hip guiding her to shift positions so she was facing him. Once she was facing him, her forehead pressed to his, he whispered softly to her again, "let me show you how much I love you."


	39. You Are Quite Charming

**I gotta be really, really, quick with this AN, 'cause I'm going to be dead for school tomorrow, but I was on a roll, and just felt like I had to at least finish the chapter I was working on. xD So again, mistakes may pop up, feel free to point them out to me, as someone (my brain is fried again, I'm sorry I can't remember who it was) did last chapter, which I greatly appreciated. =]**

**Thank you all so, so, much for all the kind things you guys have said and just for the simple fact that you're even reading and enjoying what I wrote. I'm gonna try to respond to some reviews if I have time, but I can't make any promises. School's been hectic so far. =p **

**So here, I rewarded you all with a long chapter. =]**

Chapter Thirty-Nine:

"You Are Quite Charming"

"Booth," Brennan sighed, gasping for air and rolling over onto her back, her eyes never opening as she subconsciously touched the now warm medal that was pressing against her chest, "Seeley Booth, you are-you're," she searched for the accurate word.

"Mhm, keep it coming, Bones," Booth urged her, laying on his back as well as he turned his head to look at her, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths and a cocky smile plastered across his face in response to her actions and words.

"Incredible," she breathed, pushing her disarranged hair off of her forehead before pressing a hand over her heart, able to hear it pounding in her ears.

"Incredible?" His tone mocked surprise as he smiled at her, even though she couldn't see behind her closed eyes, and his index finger ran gently up her heaving stomach, "I'm liking your choice of words," he laughed lightly when Brennan only grabbed the finger that was tracing her skin in her hand and pulled it to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the pad, "can you look at me?"

Brennan turned her head so her cheek was pressed to the pillow as opposed to the back of her head, opening one sky blue eye to look at him, smiling when she saw his cocky expression.

"Cocky bastard," she laughed softly, opening her other eye to look at him fully, her eyelids drooping slightly to watch him dreamily, her breathing still erratic, as only one thing filled her mind, "that was amazing," she informed him, unable to shake the thoughts of their intercourse, which had still only ended about thirty seconds prior.

"When you say things like that, I just get more cocky than I already am," Booth chuckled as she rolled her eyes playfully, "amazing, huh? Best it ever was?"

"It's difficult to classify that," Brennan shrugged, her fingers toying subconsciously to the new chain that hung around her neck, "each time had something unforgettable about it, but I'm not really sure which would classify as the 'best'. It will sound incredibly cheesy, but each time we have intercourse, it's like a whole new experience."

"That does sound cheesy," Booth joked, receiving only a playful slap in the arm, "ow," he chuckled, rubbing the spot she slapped with the palm of his hand, "you said it, not me."

"You were supposed to say something along the lines of, 'no, of course it isn't cheesy, intercourse should be an indescribable experience each and every time'," she informed him.

"Yeah, I would never word it like that," Booth commented, rubbing the back of his neck as he shifted positions to lay on his stomach, turning his head to look at her once he was comfortable in his new spot.

"You're incredibly playful all of the sudden," Brennan observed, turning onto her stomach as well before placing a hand flat against his back, rubbing small, comforting, circles into his skin with her palm, "is that because you're physically satisfied?"

"And emotionally," he reminded promised her, reaching over to tap the spot under her chin gently with his index finger, coaxing her head to tilt upwards so he could lean forward and press a soft kiss to her neck, "I'm glad we're not fighting anymore."

"Who said we're not fighting anymore?" the top of Booth's head nudged gently under her chin to tilt her head upwards when he kissed softly up her neck, a small sound of appreciation slipping from her lips as her eyes slipped shut, "I'm still mad at you."

"No you're not," Booth's voice was light and playful, making his way up her neck, "if you were mad at me, you wouldn't be letting me do this. And what happened a few minutes ago, wouldn't have happened."

"Fine, I'm not," Brennan pulled in a deep breath when his hand touched her waist, "mad. But I'm a little-"

Booth silenced her words by claiming her lips softly, kissing her with no urgency at all, his lips moving softly with hers. It took her a minute, but Brennan soon pressed her hand against his chest to aid her in pushing gently away from his lips.

"Booth, we have to talk about this," she sighed, wiping her lips with the back of her hand as his arm draped around her shoulders, pulling her in against his chest.

"Shh," Booth hushed her, pressing a finger to her lips as she peeked up at him innocently, "we don't have to talk about anything. I trust you, you trust me. It's good, right?"

"But you don't tru-"

Her words were muffled by his finger until they were cut off again when he hushed her.

"I trust you, Bones," he promised, "I trust you."

Brennan bit the inside of her lip as she examined his facial expression, trying to see if she was able to read whether he was telling the truth or not in his eyes, the way he could do to people.

"I feel like I believe you," she concluded, "but you didn't trust me yesterday."

"Bones," Booth's voice was pleading, as he closed his eyes in frustration, "please. Do we have to talk about this right now?"

"I guess not," Brennan mumbled, rubbing her hand over the back of her neck as she looked at the wall of his bedroom, "but Booth?"

"Hm?" He responded with a small sound.

"I'm livid with Sweets," she informed him, as he gave her a strange look, curious as to where she was going with this, "can you shoot him?"

Booth had to laugh at her request.

"I was actually considering it," he only half joked, since shooting Sweets didn't seem like such a bad idea at the moment, "but maybe we should talk to him first."

"Can I yell at him at least?" Brennan bargained with him, "talking may not be sufficient in this situation. I want to talk to him, but in a loud fashion."

"Bones, you talk to him however you want," Booth laughed softly at her frustration with Sweets, "I'd offer to help, but I might scare him."

**(line break)**

"How long until he gets here?" Brennan whispered in Booth's ear, as they waited in Sweets' office for him, ready to confront him when he least expected it, and they didn't have an appointment, "I'm growing quite tired of waiting."

Booth was about to tell her to just be patient, but he heard the door open, and Sweets' voice yell something over his shoulder, knowing that her waiting had just come to a close. Once Sweets closed the door to his office, he turned, jumping when he saw the two of them on his couch. Taking a glance at his calender, he sat in his chair, eyeing them curiously.

"Doctor Brennan, Agent Booth," the shock was notable in his voice, "you didn't have an appointment today. I wouldn't mind speaking with the two of you, but I have to go home and finish packing. Remember? Going away for the weekend?"

Sweets had a smile on his face, until he looked at Brennan, who was glaring at him, her eyes seeming as if they were going to burn right through his skin. He glanced at Booth, as if asking for help, but he only got a shrug and half smile in response.

"I think your packing can wait, Doctor Sweets," Brennan said, the sharpness in her voice even startling Booth a little bit.

Sweets glanced at his watch, leaning back in his chair after he observed the time.

"I guess I can speak with you for a little bit, Doctor Brennan, but then I really have to finish packing," he informed her, his eyes flickering between the partners, who sat at a very neutral distance, not close, so their knees were touching, but not on opposite sides of the couch, which he would have expected, considering the circumstances.

There was a silence between the three of them, as Sweets kept his eyes on Brennan, waiting for her to say something about them breaking up, and how she would need a different partner. He prepared the speech in his mind about how they could work through their split as a couple and remain partners, but was cut off in his mind when she finally spoke.

"Sweets," Brennan kept her tone even, occasionally glancing at Booth, as if looking for approval, when she spoke, "you said you have a girlfriend, correct?"

"I do have a girlfriend, yes," Sweets confirmed, "her name is Daisy."

"Do you give her gifts?" Brennan asked, receiving a nod, "because, anthropologically speaking, giving gifts is a way of asserting dominance, but, I've come to discover that, despite anthropology, people seem to give gifts out of love for another," she paused, as Sweets looked at her curiously, but didn't speak, as she reached into her shirt, and pulled out the medal that was dangling around her neck to show him, "Do you know what this is?"

"Isn't that Booth's St. Christopher medal?" Sweets asked, completely lost at this point.

"Yes, it is," Brennan confirmed, running her thumb over it, "he gave it to me this morning, as a peace offering. You see, Booth and I, we had a little misunderstanding," she glared at Sweets again, letting him feeling the anger radiating from her, "and, we would have been fine. We had an amazing night before that, making passionate love in my bed, and then, that morning, we had another satisfying go-round, and were content as could be. Until _you_ had to open your mouth to Angela, and Booth, and whoever the hell else you told."

"Doctor Brennan, I-"

Brennan held her hand up to cut him off.

"I don't want to hear your excuses, Doctor Sweets," she snapped, feeling Booth's hand rest comfortingly on her knee, causing her to relax slightly, but not nearly enough for Sweets' liking, "you thought you heard something that could very possibly ruin my relationship with Booth. I understand that Booth is your friend, and that you were just trying to help him, but you had no right to tell him, or Angela, about your speculations before you had all the facts. You thought you heard me moan Sully's name, but the truth is, you heard me moan_ Seeley's_ name. If you would like, I can explain to you every little detail of why I moaned his name," she placed her hand on his leg, caressing her fingers gently up it, "or I can show you."

"Woah there, Bones," Booth's cheeks were slightly flushed, even though he knew she was only sarcastically offering to demonstrate their actions from that morning, "you're hands are inching just a tiny bit too close to 'Lil' Seel', don't you think?"

"I'm just attempting to show Sweets what it sounds like when I moan your name," Brennan shrugged, mocking innocence, "this way, incase this ever happens again, he won't have any confusion. This way, he can tell Angela the _truth_, instead of telling her that I'm sleeping around behind your back. This way, when he tells you I was moaning someone else's name on the phone, he can _know_ he's lying, as opposed to just wondering."

"Doctor Brennan, I honestly don't know what to say," Sweets sounded mortified as he spoke, knowing that he made a huge mistake, "I'm, sorry. I was only trying to help."

"By telling me Bones was cheating on me?" Booth questioned him.

"Booth, you know I didn't tell you because I was trying to be malicious. I told you because I was trying to be a good friend."

"Are we not friends, Doctor Sweets?" Brennan asked.

Sweets exchanged looks between the two of them, feeling cornered as the two older, more intimidating, apparently now former friends, practically interrogated him. Now he knew why they were so successful in with the perpetrators in the interrogation room. The way they stared him down made him feel like a zebra thrown into a lion's den.

"Of course we're friends, Doctor Brennan," Sweets swore, going to speak again before Brennan cut him off.

"Speak for yourself," Brennan said coldly, standing up as she smoothed her blouse down, "because, as far as I'm concerned, we aren't even close to being friends."

Booth even had to wince at how harsh she was being, able to see the change in Sweets' expression when she told him that she didn't view him as a friend. Brennan pulled the door of the office open, feeling no remorse for her comment as she looked at Booth and nodded towards the now open door.

"Booth," she said, gesturing at the doorway, "I want to leave."

"Can you wait outside for a minute then, Bones?" Booth asked, giving her a small apologetic smile, "I want to have a word with the good doctor here. Alone."

A small smile stretched across Brennan's face.

_Hm, maybe karma is real_, Brennan pondered, _because Sweets is going to regret everything he did once Booth gives him the third degree._

Smiling only at Booth, she stepped outside and closed the door again, leaving the two men alone. Sweets felt like a scared puppy when Brennan left he and Booth alone in the same room. Normally, it wouldn't have been a big deal, but he knew Booth wasn't happy with him, so he figured he would probably be leaving town with a black eye that weekend. Booth was never really the best at controlling his anger, but he was better when he was with other people.

"Agent Booth?" Sweets asked, skeptically, when he didn't look like he wanted to kill him, "what did you want to talk about?"

"I think I'm gonna ask Bones to move in with me," Booth said, without hesitation, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he spoke, "I mean, I _want_ to ask Bones to move in with me, but, she'll probably say no. And don't go getting all sentimental on me, because the only reason I'm asking you and not someone else is because no one else is allowed to know that Bones and I are even, together."

Sweets felt like the world was lifted off his shoulders when Booth didn't snap on him for the whole cheating fiasco, and only asked him for some friendly advice.

"No, don't worry, no sentiment at all," Sweets vowed, "just, testosterone."

Booth winced at the psychologist's words and shook his head.

"No, Sweets," he said simply, shaking his head, but quickly getting back to the point, "so, you're a shrink. Tell me what I should do. Use your mutant powers and shrink my head."

"Well, Agent Booth," Sweets started, leaning forward in his chair as he rubbed the barely existent stubble on his chin, "you and I both know that Doctor Brennan's problem in commitment. She's afraid to get too close. So if you ask her to move in with you, it's very possible that she's going to say no."

"Aren't shrinks supposed to be optimistic?" Booth asked, furrowing his eyebrow in confusion, "because, that didn't make me feel a whole lot better about asking."

"Well, I wasn't finished," Sweets informed him, before he continued, "like I said, Doctor Brennan is afraid to get too close to anyone. Right now, she can still tell herself, if she desired, that you two are just a fling. If she moves in with you, it makes it real. Once you two officially live together, it's a committed relationship, and that might scare her."

"Alright, Sweets, that's all well and good, but you didn't answer my question."

"If you want to ask her, ask her. You practically live together anyway, from what you two tell me. But I'm just making sure you don't get all bent out of shape if she says no. What I'm doing is not answering the question of 'should I ask her?', because regardless of what I say, you'll do what you feel is the right decision. I'm simply telling you the possible repercussions of asking, like getting turned down. If you think that you'd be able to handle the rejection, then I think, without a doubt, it's worth a try to at least ask."

Booth gave him a smile and a brotherly punch in the shoulder, after he stood up from the couch with a light laugh.

"Thanks, doc," he said, giving him a second punch in the arm, "I knew I liked you, Sweets, even though you're a real pain in the ass sometimes."

"Um, thank you?" Sweets said, unsure of how to respond to that.

"I'll tell you what," Booth started, "if Bones moves in with me, I'll talk to her about maybe forgiving you for screwing up so royally."

"Yeah, thanks, Booth," Sweets said, awkwardly, as Booth waved, not picking up on how unpromising that sounded to Sweets at the moment, and walked out the door of his office to drive Brennan back to the lab for just another day at work.

**(line break)**

It was several hours later, and Booth had asked Hodgins to drive Brennan to the Hoover building for him, so he could finish up some work and just take her straight home, as opposed to leaving her at the lab alone and going to pick her up there. As he let out a long, frustrated breath of air, pen in hand and a paper in front of him on his desk, there was a soft knock on his office door. Since he had the blinds down, he didn't know who could have been knocking.

"It's open," he called out, his tone more frustrated at the paperwork than the knocking.

Brennan nudged the door open and stepped into his office, closing it quietly behind her, trying her best not to irritate him, since she could see he was not in the best of moods. He glanced up from the papers when the door opened, his hard expression softening when he saw Brennan step inside with a box of Chinese food. She examined the broad, concentrated, agent looking very out of place filling out papers at his desk in a white button down shirt that had the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his black suit jacket hanging on the back of his chair.

"Hi," she smiled sweetly, holding up the box, "I brought dinner."

"Bones and Chinese food. What more could I ask for?" Booth gave her a friendly smile.

Brennan rolled her eyes playfully as she made her way over to his desk, setting the big box that held the smaller boxes of food on the floor, before moving a few of his nick-knacks and pictures of Parker over to put a few of the smaller boxes on the desk. She pulled one of the extra chairs in his office to sit at the end of the desk, reaching into the bigger box to pull out two of the plastic forks, placing one in front of Booth and keeping one for herself.

"Hodgins said you owe him twenty dollars for gas money, but I believe he was kidding," Brennan informed Booth, as she opened up a box and dug her fork into it, popping a bite into her mouth, "Hodgins' sense of humor is particularly hard to understand at times."

"It must be nearly impossible for you then, since you can barely understand regular people's senses of humor," Booth teased, setting his pen down to replace it with a fork, snatching the box from in front of her to grab a bite.

"Booth!" Brennan complained, nudging his arm playfully with her elbow, "I understand peoples' senses of humor. You make me laugh."

"That's because I just happen to be hilarious," he informed her, "everyone thinks I'm funny."

Brennan snorted at his comment as she rolled her eyes playfully and opened up a different box to mix with the rice she was already chewing.

"Yeah right," she laughed, her words muffled by the food in her mouth, "admittedly, you can be funny, on occasion, but sometimes you can be slightly annoying."

"Me?" Booth mocked surprise, touching a hand to his chest, "never."

Brennan just giggled and rolled her eyes playfully, focusing on her food as she dug her fork into the box and placed fork-fulls into her mouth. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until she started eating, and forced herself to slow down so she didn't look like a pig.

"Pass me the orange chicken, will ya', Bones?" Booth asked, when he attempted to reach over her and grab it, but realized it was just a little too far away from his side of the desk.

Brennan happily picked up the box of orange chicken and handed it to him, receiving a friendly 'thanks' as he opened the box and speared a piece with his fork. It was quiet for a few minutes again, and Booth realized that his 'orange chicken' attempt at starting some type of conversation had failed. So that lead to plan B. He'd have to ask her out of the blue.

"Move in with me," Booth suggested without looking up from the box of orange chicken he was picking at, hoping maybe if he asked it like it wasn't a big deal, she wouldn't be as reluctant to do it.

Brennan, however, knew the significance of moving in with him, and practically choked on her fried rice when the words processed quickly in her mind.

"W-What?" She stumbled over the word, trying desperately to keep her composure.

"Move in with me," he repeated, his eyes shifting from the chicken to peek up at her, studying her horrified expression with a small, comforting, smile on his face.

"B-Booth," Brennan stuttered, sucking in a surprised breath as she searched for a response in her head, "I'm, not really sure if-you know, I have my own place, and it's nice. Much nicer than your place, might I add. I, like my house."

Booth's expression fell a bit when he saw how reluctant she was, seeing right through the lie about her place. He knew that her house had nothing to do with why she didn't want to move in with him. She didn't want to move in with him because she didn't want to live with _him_. As much as Booth wanted to try and convince her not to be afraid of the commitment that came with moving in together, he decided that he tried, and she wasn't ready, so he was just going to have to wait. He knew that in order to be in love with Bones, he had to be patient.

"It's okay," Booth's voice was soft and comforting, as Brennan glanced up at him, guilt and apology filling her bright blue eyes, "you don't have to."

Brennan half smiled at his assurance.

"Thank you," she mumbled softly, closing her box, all of a sudden, not feeling as hungry anymore, "you can have the rest of this fried rice if you want."

Booth chuckled and shook his head closing up the orange chicken as well before leaning back in his chair and pressing a hand to his stomach, letting out a long breath.

"No thanks, Bones. If I eat any more I might explode."

"That's highly improbable," Brennan informed him, putting the small boxes of food neatly back in the big box, tossing the used forks in the little trash can by his desk.

"That, Bones, is called a hyperbole," he informed her, slipping his jacket back over his shoulders as Brennan tied her coat around her waist, before picking up the box of food to bring back to Booth's, "it's an exaggeration. Like, 'you're killing me, Bones'."

"Clever," Brennan's voice was sarcastic as Booth took the box out of her hand to carry it for her, and Brennan opened the door to his office, "Booth, I carried it here, I can carry it back."

"Can you just be the girl? For once?" Booth pleaded with her.

"I don't understand why just because I'm a female I can't be self sufficient and independent," Brennan complained as Booth held the office door open for her with one hand, before letting it close behind her once she was out in the hallway, "that's so stereotypical and completely sexist. Why do the girls always have to be the damsel in distress?"

"Because that's the way it's supposed to be," he answered simply, turning to her once they were outside of his office, "come on, Bones. Every little girl has wanted to be a princess at one point or another. Which princess was your favorite?"

"I didn't enjoy princesses," Brennan said, receiving a 'yeah right' look from Booth before she continued, "but, admittedly, I do believe that the brunette from Beauty and the Beast was my favorite. In Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella, the princesses were very dependent on the men in their lives, while in Beauty and the Beast, she fell in love with a man not for his looks, but because he had a kind heart, and she wasn't hopelessly dependent on him."

"Wow," Booth's mouth hung slightly agape when she explained the entire reasoning behind why Belle from Beauty and the Beast was her favorite Disney Princess, "aren't girls supposed to pick their favorite princess based on which one looks most like them or something?"

"That's completely irrational," she told him, already seeing this turning into another bickering festival, "I have my reasoning, and you have yours."

Deciding to let her win this argument, Booth gave up on trying to get her to just act like a normal girl, and, instead, just lead her out to his SUV, opening the passenger side door for her before he got in on the driver's side. Once they were settled, he put his key in the ignition, starting up the car. But before he started to drive, he leaned over and dropped a soft kiss on Brennan's cheek, moving his lips up to nip softly at her ear, causing her to shiver involuntarily.

"You know, Bones," he whispered in her ear, nibbling gently on her earlobe, "you were supposed to say you wanted to be Cinderella, so I could be Prince Charming."

"You are quite charming," Brennan whispered back to him, in a shaky voice, his lips cold against her ear, since they had just been out in the winter air, "I would say you could be the Beast, but I don't really think that's suiting for you."

Booth gave a raspy chuckled against her ear, lowering his lips to her neck, but instead of kissing the skin, only rubbed the stubble on his chin across the tender skin of her neck.

"I can be a Beast," he promised her, hearing her moan softly at the sensation.

"Booth," she moaned gently, "I find your beard very arousing."

"Oh, do you?" Booth laughed softly at her confession, "that's the first time I've ever heard that one. Maybe when we get back to my house, I'll let you feel it scratch against parts of your skin that are nowhere near your neck."

Brennan moaned softly again when he pressed his lips teasingly to her neck.

"How about here?" She asked, urgently, "in the back?"

"No," Booth chuckled, leaning away from her as he pulled out of the parking lot, starting to drive in the direction of his house, "no offence, Bones. I wasn't trying to be a tease."

"I know," Brennan assured him, covering her mouth to yawn, as she pressed her head against the window, "I know how you feel about intercourse in the car."

Booth had to laugh, as both of them stayed peacefully silent for the rest of the ride. He was slightly shocked when the aroused Brennan didn't babble the whole ride home, but knew it made sense when he parked at his place, and glanced over at her, only to see that she was fast asleep. Chuckling softly, Booth touched her arm gently, rubbing it with his palm.

"Bones," he whispered, "we're home."

Booth mentally regretted his choice in words, thinking she'd get freaked out, but only received a tired 'mmm', as the half asleep Brennan stumbled out of the car, gripping onto Booth's arm for support was they made their way inside and to his bedroom. Brennan, without changing out of her work clothes, slipped under the covers, pulling them tight around her shoulders as her eyes immediatly drifted back shut. Booth changed quickly into sweat pants and a t-shirt before getting into bed with her, able to feel her snuggle close as soon as he touched the mattress. In response to her actions, he wrapped his arms gently around her waist, spooning her as she slept, his breath warm against her neck.

"Booth," she mumbled, in her half asleep stage.

"Mhm?" He responded, partially asleep now as well.

"Don't leave me," she mumbled, reaching weakly behind her to touch his face, "ever."

"I won't," he promised, pressing a soft kiss to her ear, before they both fell asleep in one another's arms, able to sleep peacefully with the assurance.


	40. We're Not Married

**A/N: For the billionth time, thank you to everyone who's been reviewing and to anyone who added this to their favorites and or alerts. I know you guys are a little frustrated with me 'cause Booth forgave Sweets so easily, but I'm currently working on that and how to make you all un-mad at me. =] **

**And the song mentioned in this chapter is "Best Days" by Matt White. Not my song, not my characters. See how this works? xD**

Chapter Forty:

"We're Not Married"

Brennan's eyes fluttered half open, subconsciously sighing in relief when she felt Booth's arms around her waist, holding her tight against his body. She only knew that he was already awake when she felt his grip on her tighten, and his lips press gently to the spot under her ear. Brennan sighed again, letting her eyes fall back closed as she started to drift back into a sleep, before she heard Booth's husky voice singing playfully in her ear between gentle kisses that were alternating between her neck and ear.

"_Oh I never want to be without you_

_so just stay with me._

_I will love you endlessly ._

_Oh, darling, darling._"

"Booth," Brennan mumbled, a small blush forming on her cheeks as she shifted slightly in her position to scoot closer to him, "stop."

Booth just chuckled at her embarrassment and continued to sing huskily against her skin.

"_Do you believe in love at first sight?_

_I think you do._

_We're lying naked under the covers._

_Those are the best days of my life._"

Brennan silenced his words when she shifted slightly so she was facing him and pressed her lips lightly to his, the tips of her fingers tracing the line of his jaw for the duration of their soft kiss. Before things could get carried away, Brennan disconnected their lips, just holding his face softly between her hands as she admired him with twinkling eyes.

"Morning," Booth said, smiling warmly at the woman he had his arms around.

"Good morning," Brennan responded, swiping a piece of hair out of her face, reflecting the same warm smile back at him, "did you get a satisfying sleep?"

"I did," Booth ached his shoulders to stretch them out, making sure to keep his arms in contact with her body when he did, "did you?"

"Yes, slept like an infant," she nodded, "am I doing a good job at domestic morning talk?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Bones?" Booth had to laugh softly.

"Domestic morning talk," she repeated, shrugging, as if it were obvious what she was talking about, "you know, when married couples wake up next to each other every morning, the things they talk about. Good morning? How did you sleep? What are your plans for today?"

Booth rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly when she spoke, feeling slightly flustered when she began talking about married couples, since he feared he'd say something that would freak her out when it came to that subject.

"Bones," he chuckled awkwardly, "we're not married."

"You think I don't know that?" Brennan rolled her eyes, "I'm more talking about the _idea_ of pedestrian, yet still sweet and tender, conversation in the morning, when we wake up next to one another. You always struck me as the kind of man who would want things like that."

Booth laughed softly before dropping a soft peck to her lips.

"Bones, there is nothing 'pedestrian' about us," he chuckled, earning a small smile from Brennan, "if conversation in our bed was normal, there'd be something wrong."

Brennan smiled and pressed her forehead to his, before he leaned down and captured a patch of skin on her neck softly with his lips, able to hear the woman holding onto him sigh lightly as she ran her fingers over his back. The feelings she got with Booth were different from the feelings she got with any of her former lovers. As much as she had enjoyed cuddling with and kissing Michael, and Sully, and even her internet boyfriend David, she never had the desire to just stay in bed all day with them the way she did with Booth. After a while, their tricks became old news, and she'd just want to go back home and sleep as opposed to letting them kiss her neck in the same fashion they always did. But with Booth, it felt like there were a million different ways that his lips could touch to her neck, exciting her in a different way each time. She knew for a fact that she would never tire of anything physical that he did.

"Booth?" Brennan asked, her fingers gently trailing his fabric covered back.

"Mhm?" He responded, the sound muffled by her skin.

"I love you," she reminded him, tilting her head back to press against the headboard, giving him a larger surface area of skin to work with.

"_I_ love _you_," he assured her happily, scattering light kisses across her throat.

Brennan smiled as her head lolled back in pleasure, her fingers skimming teasingly down his back before she snaked them up the front of his t-shirt, hearing a small gasp from her partner when her cold hands connected with his warm skin.

"Bones," he hissed against her skin, "your hands are cold."

"Sorry," Brennan laughed softly, pressing her hands to his rib cage, tracing them downwards to feel every detail, before they left the confinements of his shirt.

"I don't believe I asked you to take them out," he reminded her, nipping gently at the line of her jaw, his hands tracing gently down her neck.

Brennan heard him, and went to respond, but lost her train of though when he kissed one of her sensitive spots.

"Booth," she moaned softly, "we have to go to work."

"So I can't kiss you?" He asked, disconnecting his lips from her skin to peek up at her.

"You're trying to seduce me," she accused, "I know the difference."

"I don't appreciate you accusing me of things without hard evidence, Doctor Brennan," he teased, turning over so he was back on his side of the bed, their bodies no longer in contact, "so I think you should shower first because you take longer to get ready, and then you can get a head start on getting ready while I'm in the shower."

"Or we could conserve water by showering together," Brennan suggested.

"Oh, _now_ who's trying to seduce who?" Booth had to laugh at her suggestion, "I think it would be a better idea for us to shower separately."

"Why?" she whined, pouting like a child when he declined her offer.

"Because remember the last time we showered together?" He asked, "I think we did more kissing and touching than actual showering. And then we wasted all the hot water."

"I didn't mind, and you didn't seem to mind much either when it was actually happening," Brennan pointed out, before slipping out from under the covers as standing up, smoothing her shirt down, "but if you insist, I'll shower first."

"Thank you," Booth smiled appreciatively, grateful that, for once, she just listened to him and didn't argue her point.

**(line break)**

In the car, on the way to grab a quick bite to eat before going to the Jeffersonian, Brennan sat in the passenger's seat, slightly slumped down as she tapped her fingers against the arm rest and stared out the window.

"Are you in trouble?" She asked, as if out of no where.

Booth glanced curiously at her, only taking his eyes off the road for a split second.

"In trouble?" He asked, "No, I'm not in trouble. Why?"

"Because you were doing paperwork yesterday," Brennan shrugged, sitting up straight again as she smoothed down her dress pants, "And we haven't been out in the field in almost a week. What ever happened with the fourth grade teacher's wife?"

"They still haven't found anything that links her, or anyone else, to the murder," Booth informed her, "and if they don't soon, then the case will probably go cold."

Brennan frowned at the thought of the case going cold, and this man never getting the justice he deserved.

"Should I reexamine the body?" She asked.

"If you want to," Booth replied, "but you probably won't find anything new."

Brennan looked at him curiously, squinting in confusion.

"Why does it sound like you _want_ the case to go cold?" She asked.

"I don't. Of course I don't," Booth promised, "it's just, there's absolutely nothing to convince a jury to convict the wife, and I know it was her. Even if, by some chance, you find something that can link her to the crime, she'll play the guilt card."

"What guilt card?" Brennan asked.

"Come on, Bones. The victim was her husband, and he was cheating on her. They had kids together, and were trying for another baby. And then she finds out that he's cheating on her? She'll cry and say she had to do it for her family, or whatever bullshit story she comes up with, and then the jury will be hesitant to convict her."

"So, you don't want the case to go cold, you're just," she searched for the appropriate word, "frustrated?"

"Yes," Booth nodded in confirmation, "I'm just frustrated."

Brennan looked at the hard expression he was wearing and sighed lightly.

"Are you growing tired of working with murder?" She asked.

"No," he told her honestly, "I mean, obviously I wish people weren't murdered, but they are, and if it's going to happen, then I might as well do my part in locking up the people who do it, right?"

"I guess," Brennan shrugged, taking a long pause before she continued, "I'm growing quite tired of working with murder. Don't misunderstand, I get satisfaction out of putting the monsters that murder innocent people in jail, but when everyday, you go to work to examine the bodies of people who were brutally murdered, people who were someone's child, or parent, or lover, it isn't very enjoyable. I'm a scientist, Booth, not a hero like you."

By the time Brennan was finished with her little speech on why she was tiring of working with murder, Booth had already parked the SUV across the street from the diner, and was looking at her intently as she spoke.

"Hey, Bones," his voice was encouraging as he put his hand gently over hers, "you may not shoot guns, or handcuff the murderer, but you're just as much a hero as I am. You and I both know that you're much more than just a nerd squint."

Brennan half smiled when he took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Thanks, Booth," she smiled.

"For what?" He asked, "Comforting you, or saying you're not a nerd?"

Brennan just rolled her eyes playfully as she got out of the car and stepped onto the sidewalk to wait to cross, taking Booth's hand when he offered it to her, getting that small warm feeling in the pit of her stomach when their fingers laced effortlessly together.

"Is my hand still cold?" Brennan asked, hoping the warmness she felt in her cheeks wasn't visible as a blush.

"No," Booth laughed lightly at her question, "it's not."

As they waited for the light to change, Brennan's eyes scanned the familiar place, watching as cars rolled by through the still green traffic light. Everything seemed normal, like every other day, but that was until just one split second, changed the entire mood and feel of the atmosphere.

Everything happened so fast, that Brennan felt as if she had blacked out for a few seconds between when the window of a very common looking car rolled down, and the sound of gunfire cracked through the air. The screams of the panicking pedestrians sounded as if they were underwater, as she stood frozen in shock for only a split second before Booth yanked her down to the ground behind the SUV, her knee aching when it hit the pavement as he didn't hesitate to pull his own gun out of it's holster, loading it, just incase the car circled the block and came back.

"Bones, are you okay?" Booth's panicked voice rang in her ears, as her chest heaved with the terrified breaths and her entire body shook, "Bones!" he shook her shoulder gently with the hand that wasn't holding the gun, "Answer me!"

"Yes, Booth, I'm fine," she snapped, her left hand moving to touch the dull pain in her upper arm when Booth spoke to someone from the FBI on his phone, barely noticing the warm, wetness on the sleeve of her shirt, "ow," she whimpered slightly in pain when her hand touched the wound.

Booth hung up with the man he was speaking to, and grabbed Brennan's arm gently to examine the spot she was grabbing at.

"Bones, you're bleeding," he observed, already hearing sirens pull up to the scene.

"It's only a flesh wound," she said, moving her hand when Booth went to examine the wound, just then, noticing the blood on her fingers, "the bullet only grazed my arm."

Brennan didn't feel afraid, but her body told a whole different story, as if trembled in fear and her heart pounded in her chest. Somebody in an FBI jacket stood over them a few minutes later, leaning down slightly to speak to Booth.

"Booth, are you guys okay?" The man asked, gesturing towards the bloody Brennan.

"She has a flesh wound, but other than that we're both fine," he told him, putting his gun back in his holster once he was sure that other FBI agents were at the scene, "just, find the bastard that shot at my partner."

Brennan's eyes followed the man when he nodded and walked away, joining, what was now a crime scene, that wasn't visible to her, since she was still on the ground behind the SUV.

"This is why I don't let you go out on your own," Booth said, his voice angry, not with her, but with the whole fiasco that just took place, "are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," her tone was harsh as she reached up with the arm that wasn't injured to dab at a couple of tears that escaped from her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt, "I'm fine."

Booth hushed her gently when her voice cracked at the end, and she dabbed profusely at the tears of fear that fell from her eyes. Avoiding contact with her injury, he gently pulled the trembling Brennan into his arms, holding her close as she buried her face into his shirt and, for once, just allowed herself to cry, and be afraid.

"You're fine," he promised her, "you're fine, Bones. They're gonna get caught."

Brennan just cried into his shirt, the mixture of his strong arms holding her tight to his body, and the comforting words he was whispering into her ear relaxing her slightly. When she was calmed down enough to speak, only one sentence came to her mind and out of her mouth.

"I want to go home," she whispered into his chest.


	41. I've Got You, Bones

**A/N: Just a very quick thanks and chapter before I go to bed. So here. Thanks and chapter, all rolled into one, quickie author's note. xD**

Chapter Forty-One:

"I've Got You, Bones"

When Brennan stepped into her house, with Booth following close behind, she silently flicked on the light and placed her purse near the door. Booth shut the door behind him after he stepped inside, taking notice to Brennan's blank expression as she stared at the wall in front of her. He had called Cam in the car and explained what happened so she could understand why Brennan needed the rest of the day off. Cam, of course, understood, and insisted she take two.

"Bones? You alright?" Booth asked, when he saw Brennan stare off into a daydream.

Brennan nodded, her eyes leaving the wall as she twisted her arm slightly to look at the flesh wound that lay there, yelping slightly when she twisted it in the wrong way.

"It's a little uncomfortable to move," she told Booth, under exaggerating, since it was, in fact, very painful to move, "and my patella is a little sore from hitting the pavement."

Booth moved to the left side of her to examine the wound on her arm through where the bullet ripped the fabric of both the white button up blouse, and the black, long sleeved, shirt she wore under it. He was careful not to touch it when he moved a piece of the ripped black fabric aside, hearing a small whimper from Brennan when his fingers grazed the open skin.

"Sorry," he said softly, looking closer at her arm, "we should probably get this cleaned up first, then put the disinfectant on it and put the gauze over it."

Normally, Brennan would have told him it was fine, and that she didn't need disinfectant, or gauze, and that she could just wash the blood off and let it heal on it's own, but she was too drained to argue with him then. Instead, she just nodded and went into the bathroom, feeling pathetic for being so freaked out by the incident.

She turned on the water with the hand on her good arm, and examined the cut in the mirror while she waited for the water to warm up. As much as she would never admit it, it was hurting like hell, especially combined with the pain in her knee.

"Pathetic," she murmured to herself, huffing in disgust, "it's just a flesh wound. It could have been a lot worse."

When steam from the shower fogged up the mirror, she decided the water was warmed up, and started to unbutton her blouse. The part of her upper arm she was shot in proved to be one of the worst possible places, since she could barely lift her arm without feeling the dull pain, and if she curled her elbow up enough, she'd feel a sharper pain course through her entire arm. She winced in pain when she went to unbutton her blouse, but continued to try, knowing that this was something she could do on her own. Starting to get frustrated when the pain grew worse the more she tried, she yanked at the buttons, before completely letting go of her shirt. She closed her eyes and sighed, defeated tears stinging behind her eyelids.

"Booth?" She called out, weakly, from the bathroom, "Booth?"

She waited only a few seconds before the door creaked open.

"What's up, Bones?" He asked., his eyes closed, just incase she was already undressed , only to open when he heard her sigh. When he looked at her, he could see the frustration on her face, and tell that this whole day was starting to upset her, "what's the matter?"

Brennan opened her eyes, which were red from the tears she was holding back, letting them fall closed again when she knew tears were going to slip out.

"I can't get my shirt off," she mumbled in embarrassment, reaching up to wipe away her tears with her hand that was able to be used.

Booth took a step forward so he was close enough to her to reach her shirt, taking one of the buttons between his fingers to undo it gently, moving quickly to the second.

"Don't be embarrassed," he encouraged her, his fingers moving swiftly over the buttons of her blouse until they were all undone, "you're having a rough day."

Brennan just nodded, opening her eyes again, looking down to see that the buttons were open. Booth slipped the shirt off of her good shoulder first, stopping when he got to the injured one, trying to think of how to get it off as painlessly as possible.

"Just tell me if this hurts, okay?" He asked.

Brennan bit the inside of her lip, bracing herself for the pain she knew was coming when he slowly started to slide the shirt off of her shoulder, trying his best to get it off touching as little of the damaged skin as possible. They managed to successfully remove the white over shirt, but Booth knew getting the under shirt off was going to be a bit more of a project.

"Can you hold your arms up?" Booth asked, "Or does it hurt too much?"

"No, I can do it," Brennan assured him, holding her arms up, wincing in pain when she felt a sharp pinch in her arm that quickly faded away.

Booth moved his hands to the bottom of her long sleeved shirt, gently pulling it off her body, hearing a small yelp when the sleeve peeled off her arm, the blood sticking it to her arm causing the pain to be ten times worse than it would have normally been.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, for the second time in only a few minutes, when the sharp sound passed her lips.

"It's fine," she said, looking down at her bare stomach, only her black lace bra left on her upper body, "can you unhook my bra and unzip my skirt too? It hurts when I reach back."

"Sure," he responded, sidestepping, so he was behind her.

Booth gently unhooked the back of her bra, sliding it off her shoulders, lifting the thin, black, strap to pass it over the wound without touching it. He slid it down to her elbows before Brennan took care of the rest herself, wanting to prove that she could at least do _something_. When she shook her bra off her hands, Booth moved his hands to the her skirt, tugging gently at the zipper. It gave way easily and fell to the floor, pooling around her feet before she stepped out of it. Feeling bare, she covered her chest with her good arm before she turned to him, giving him a small grateful smile.

"Thank you," she said, hooking one thumb into her panties, "I think I got the rest."

"Right," Booth felt a small blush creep onto his cheeks when he noticed he'd been staring at the topless Brennan, even when she covered up her chest, "no problem."

Brennan slipped her panties off before stepping in the shower, feeling the water run over her body, stinging her wound slightly, but not enough to cause any severe pain.

"Wait, Booth," she quickly called to him from the shower, before he could leave the bathroom, "can you help me wash it? It doesn't hurt as much when you touch it."

"Are you sure you want me to touch it, Bones?" He asked, "it might hurt less if you're the one who washes it."

"No, I want you to do it," she assured him.

Obeying to her wishes, he undressed himself. Brennan made sure not to watch him, since she knew he got uncomfortable when she watched him get undressed. She didn't hear the shower door open and shut, and only knew he'd joined her when she felt his wet chest pressed to her back. Sighing, Brennan leaned her back against his chest, the only sounds audible being the water running over their heads and hitting the bottom of the shower.

"Do you need your hair washed?" He asked, softly, in her ear.

"No," Brennan responded, shaking her head under the water, "I washed it this morning."

"M'kay, hand me your soap please," he requested, as Brennan quickly obliged and picked up her purple body wash, the one that smelled of jasmine and lavender.

Booth put a little on his index and middle finger, barely touching her skin when he smeared the soap across her injury.

"Just tell me if I'm hurting you," he reminded her, "don't be afraid to tell me."

"I'm not afraid of you," Brennan said, her mind flashing back to the drive-by that happened only about an hour before, "but, admittedly, I feel afraid."

"Of what?" Booth asked, keeping the conversation going when his fingers started to rub the soap into her skin, his words attempting to distract her from the pain.

Brennan bit down on the inside of her cheek, whimpering in pain when he rubbed a little harder on the spots where the blood had dried on, repeating apologies over and over as he did.

"Mara Muerte," she answered, feeling the tears build up in her eyes, from a mixture of her confession, and the pain in her arm, "I'm afraid of Mara Muerte. They're the ones who shot at me today. It was the same car, Booth. Remember when we went to that little neighborhood and someone shot at us the first time? It was that same car."

Booth had a feeling that it had been someone from the El Salvadorian gang that shot at Brennan that day, but hearing the confirmation just made it much more real. He felt the anger burn in his chest, but contained it. Right now, he was more concerned with helping Brennan.

"You don't have to be afraid of them," he said softly in her ear, moving his other arm from around her waist to cup some water in his hand, using it to rinse the soap off her wound gently, "this is the last time they're ever going to hurt you. I've got you, Bones. I won't let them hurt you ever again. I promise."

When her wound was rinsed off, and he stopped speaking, Brennan quickly turned around and wrapped her arms around his upper body, ignoring the pain that shot through her arm as she buried her face in his wet chest, the tears starting to fall from her eyes now. Booth gently hushed her and wrapped one arm around her waist to hold her close, using the other to run his fingers through her hair, which was still getting rained on from the shower head.

"Why are you crying, Bones?" He asked gently, dropping a soft kiss to her dripping wet hair.

"Because I'm scared," she mumbled into his chest, "I'm so scared, Booth. You're going to try to protect me, but you can't. They're not going to stop until I'm dead. Or until you're dead. They'll happily kill both of us if they can."

"They won't," he promised, "Temperance, I'm not gonna let you down."

Brennan just sighed and buried her face into his shoulder, letting the water cascade over them as they held one another tight. As much as she wanted to complain that he wasn't being rational, and that there was no way he could prevent either of their deaths, she wanted to believe him. _Needed _to believe him. Just for the moment, to ease her fear. Her crying settled after a few minutes, but she never picked her head up, just wanting to get lost in him. And even though Booth knew she wasn't crying anymore, and that her wound was all washed off, he stayed with her until the water got cold.

After they were showered and dressed, Booth got the gauze, a cotton ball, and the disinfectant out of her medicine cabinet, joining her on the couch where she sat in her tank top and shorts with her knees pulled to her chest, and her wet hair hanging over her shoulders. She turned her head to look at him, a very faint smile coming to her lips. Booth smiled back and undid the top of the disinfectant, putting it on the cotton ball. Brennan turned her head so she was looking at the wall again, bracing herself for the contact of the cotton with her skin.

"Ow," she sucked in a sharp breath when he touched her arm with the cotton ball.

"I'm sorry, Bones, but it'll get infected if I don't put this on," he told her, dabbing just a tiny bit more on before he stopped and set the cotton ball down on the coffee table, taking a gauze out of the box and pressing it gently to her skin, ripping off a piece of gauze tape to tape the end and secure it to her skin.

Brennan sighed in relief, since this part didn't hurt, and watched as he taped the other side and made sure it was secure, and not going to fall off.

"Why are you so nice to me?" Brennan asked, as he ripped a piece of tape off the roll with his teeth, and taped the top of the gauze to her arm.

"What kind of question is that?" Booth asked, repeating the process, yet again, with the bottom half, so it was taped on all four sides.

"A serious one," she responded, as he set the supplies down and admired his handy work.

"I'm nice to you because I like you," he told her, as she turned to look at him now that her wound was all patched up, "is there a reason I _shouldn't_ be nice to you?"

"Sometimes I'm not very nice to you," Brennan admitted, using her good hand to rub awkwardly at the back of her neck, "sometimes I'm quite horrible to you."

"I've had my bad moments too," Booth chuckled lightly.

"You've always been nice to me. I've said really nasty things to you."

"Bones, I've said some pretty mean things to you too. Don't worry about it," Booth shrugged, and shifted so his back was against the arm of the couch. He coaxed her closer with his index finger, "Come 'ere."

Brennan did as he asked and scooted back effortlessly into his lap, settling with her back against his chest, leaning her head back to rest on the base of his neck, closing her eyes when she felt his arms lock around her waist.

"I love you, Bones," he said gently, pressing a soft kiss to her earlobe, "so much."

"Love you too," she mumbled, feeling slightly sleepy from the chaos of the day.

Booth closed his eyes as well, feeling Brennan relax slightly in his arms.

"You can take a nap if you want," he suggested, "I know you had a rough morning."

"Mmm," Brennan replied, already half asleep by the time he finished his sentence, comfortable just falling asleep in Booth's arms, the horror of the morning washing away when she drifted off into a light sleep, dreaming only of the man who was holding onto her.


	42. Terms of Endearment

**Sorry about the delay on this one, folks. =] Had a busy weekend, not much time to write. But, regardless, here it is. Again, with the 'didn't have time to edit thorougly due to the fact that I need to sleep', but I tried, and that's what matters. Right? xD**

**This one's basically just a filler. Sorry. Starts out a little, I guess you can call it angsty, but all in all, it's pretty fluffy.**

Chapter Forty-Two:

"Terms of Endearment"

Brennan jerked out of her sleep with a loud gasp, clasping her hand over her chest as he heart pounded erratically.

"Bones?" Booth mumbled sleepily, when he felt her jerk violently, "what happened?"

Brennan sighed, feeling pathetic when the uncontrollable tears rose back up into her eyes, falling down her cheeks in waterfalls before she had the chance to blink them back.

"Booth," she sobbed, turning onto her side to bury her face in his shoulder.

Booth pressed the large palm of his hand against the back of her head to hold it close to his body, her tears wetting the black t-shirt he was wearing as she cried. Caressing her waist softly with his other hand, he gently hushed the crying Brennan.

"It was just a dream, Bones," he promised, still having no idea what she had dreamed about that freaked her out so badly, "it's okay, I'm here, baby. It was only a dream."

Brennan nodded as she held him close, inhaling his uniquely Booth scent, as she let him try to calm her down, not even complaining when he called her baby. She knew it was a dream, and that she and Booth were just lying on the couch in her living room, but the back of her mind seemed to be trying to convince her otherwise.

"It felt so real," she admitted, tilting her head up slightly to peek up at him with bloodshot eyes, "I, almost lost you."

"It's okay," Booth whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her hair.

Brennan shook her head as her mind replayed the dream, over and over again, as much as she tried to block it out, and convince herself to think of something else.

"The window rolled down, and he shot. I saw the gun, but I couldn't grab you in time. The blood. There was so much blood. I'd never seen you so still, not even when you were sleeping. I wanted to shake your shoulder, tell you to wake up, but I couldn't. Something was stopping me. Your chest wasn't moving. You were, so still. So silent. So, I, reached down, and I pressed my hand to your chest," she swallowed the ache in her throat, since even thought he was alive, and there with her, the dream was still painful, "and you were cold, which I know isn't logical, because bodies don't stop radiating heat the moment their heart stops. But, you felt like the corpses we examine at the Jeffersonian. I-I-,"

Brennan cut herself off when a few more tears fell from her eyes, and Booth quickly reached up to wipe them from her cheeks before she could, hushing her comfortingly.

"The dreams, they started out good, and happy, and then, I don't know what happened. My subconscious mind must have still been focused on the drive-by."

"It's okay, Bones," he promised her, again, "I'm not going to penalize you for your dreams."

"But, Booth, I dreamt that you were dead," she reminded him, reaching up to fix his hair, which had gotten slightly disarranged from their nap on the couch, "some people would be mad about that."

"Why would I be mad about that?" Booth laughed softly, his index finger tracing absent mindedly over the base of her throat, "it was just a dream."

Brennan just shrugged and sighed, relaxing her shoulders back against his back when his finger traced lightly over her throat. She tilted her head back slightly to give him more surface area to work with, and so she could peek up at him from under her sleepy eyelids.

"I hope you don't think I'm a nuisance," Brennan said casually.

"Getting shot doesn't make you a nuisance," he chuckled

"But acting clingy and irritating is," she pointed out, "my behavior is probably unpleasant for you. I'm sorry, Booth. I'm a little," she searched for the appropriate word, "vulnerable, right now, but, I should be over this by morning."

"Bones," Booth let out a long breath, "you're going to _start_ annoying me if you keep asking if you're annoying me."

"That, doesn't make sense," she gave him a puzzled look.

"No, it makes perfect sense," he assured her, "I'm not annoyed that you want me to lay with you, and I'm not angry that you're having nightmares. You act like I'm some kind of jack ass."

"You have jack ass tendencies," she said, seeing nothing wrong with her observation.

"You see that, Bones?" He asked, pointing an accusing finger at the woman who was snugged against his chest and peeking up at him, "_that's_ annoying. When you have nightmares and want me to help you wash off your gunshot wound, that doesn't make me angry. It's when you call me a jack ass that I get angry."

"I wasn't calling you a jack ass," she defended, "I just said you have jack ass tendencies, which simply means that some things you do can be a little, jack ass-ish, as you would say. Like when you harassed the people who enjoyed pony play, or when you call my team and I squints."

"Okay, first of all, the pony play people _were_ freaks," he reminded her, "and 'squint' is a term of endearment, the same way Bones is. You should grow to like when I call you a squint. Hell, who would have guessed you'd grow to like Bones."

"So you're saying that 'squint' and 'Bones' are nicknames you gave me because you like me, and not because you were trying to get under my skin?"

"Terms of endearment, Bones. Terms of endearment. And you don't let me call you 'baby' anyway, so I'm kind of running out of options here."

"Because I am not a baby," Brennan said, simply, "and beside the fact that I am not a child, nor an infant for that matter, 'baby' is also a nickname that every girl receives from her significant other. I don't want to have the same name as the rest of the girls in the world," she blushed lightly when Booth smiled proudly, "Who else is called Bones as a term of endearment?"

"No one that I know," Booth smiled, all the irritation he was feeling with her just a few minutes prior washed away with her words, "Bones," he added in, just to make her happy.

Brennan smiled and turned carefully over onto her stomach, so her torso was pressed to his and she was looking up at him, pressing a kiss to his clothed chest, pressing her cheek there afterwards to feel the warmth of his skin through the t-shirt.

"You're so warm," she observed, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath to breathe in the smell of his cologne.

"I'm not dead, Bones," Booth promised her.

"Well I know that," she rolled her eyes at his obviousness, "it's physically impossible to have a conversation with someone who is deceased. I'm just, embracing and enjoying the fact that even though it felt so real, it was still only a dream."

"Bones," he dragged out the 'term of endearment' in adoration, looking down at her in appreciation, "sometimes I get the feeling that you say things like that just to be cute. And don't say that 'cute' isn't a term that 'accurately describes you' because, you know that somewhere, somewhere deep down in that heart of yours, there's a little speck of cuteness. Don't even try to deny it because I know-Jeez!" He hissed, cutting himself off when he felt her ice cold hand slip up the bottom of his shirt, tracing lazily over his skin, "Why are your hands always freezing?"

"My hands aren't even that cold," Brennan rolled her eyes at his complaints, "maybe you're just abnormally warm."

"Or maybe your hands are just popsicles," he countered.

Ignoring his comment, Brennan scooted down and pushed the bottom of his shirt up slightly, pressing her lips to the skin that was revealed, immediatly able to feel his skin heating up and the muscles in his abdomen tightening.

"Bones," he croaked, peeking down at her, "what are ya' doing?"

"I'm kissing you," she said, simply, "isn't that quite obvious?"

"Well, yeah, but, I mean," he paused when Brennan opened her mouth against his skin, pressing open mouthed kisses to every inch of skin that was visible, causing his words to jumble in his mind, "you're hurt. This probably isn't the best time."

"Kissing you doesn't require the use of my arm," she reminded him, "and I don't need it to do this either," she flicked her tongue gently over a patch of skin, feeling his muscles tighten further, "would you like me to stop?"

"No straight guy on the planet would ask you to stop," he informed her.

"Just on the planet?" she asked, breathing against the damp skin teasingly, "What about those aliens that you and Hodgins love so much? Would they ask me to stop?"

"Bones," he warned.

"Alright, alright," she rolled her eyes at how much he hated being teased, and how irritated he got when she _did _tease him, "you're such a drama princess sometimes."

Booth was going to correct her mistake, but just couldn't bring himself to tell her to call him a 'queen', so that one was allowed to slide. Brennan, not even realizing her misuse of the term, just continued her path up his torso, pushing his shirt further up the further up her lips traveled, satisfied when she'd earn a groan, or a quiet 'Oh, Bones'. When she reached the point where it wouldn't slide up and further, she leaned her head away from his skin, straddling his waist at this point, slipping her hands back up his upper body to run softly over his chest, under the shirt.

"This shirt is becoming a burden," she informed him, her fingers trailing his chest.

"You're trying to kill me," Booth concluded, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the arm of the couch.

"I'm not," she said, defensively, "I'm trying to pleasure you. Is it working?"

"What do you think?" He asked back.

Brennan smiled in satisfaction as she ran her fingers lazily over his chest, occasionally raking her fingernails over the skin, able to hear a low growl from deep in is chest when she did.

"Bones," he growled, his tone husky, "just take it off."

"Take what off?" Brennan asked, cutely, knowing good and well what he was talking about, but just wanting to hear him say it.

"Bones," he warned her again.

"What?" Brennan mocked confusion, placing a hand over her heart, "I don't know what you are talking about, Booth. You're going to have to be more specific."

Without using words, Booth just reached for the hem of his shirt, willing to take it off on his own if she was going to play the teasing game, only to be stopped by her hands.

"Ah, ah, ah," she scolded him playfully, lacing her fingers through his as she peeked down at him, a seductive cloud of lust visible in her eyes, "tell me what you want me to do. Describe it in detail, Booth. Be as vivid as you can."

"Just kiss me again," he whispered in a raspy voice, tugging gently on her hands to attempt to bring her back down to him, "kiss me. Touch me. I don't care what you do, just stop teasing me."

Brennan smiled in satisfaction when she saw how much he needed her at that moment, but still wasn't finished teasing him. This was going to be payback. Payback for all the times he'd teased her, all bundled up into a long few minutes. Moving one of her hands up to his face, the other still laced with his, she let her fingers brush against his lips, able to feel his warm breath on the pads of her fingers when she did. She immediatly regretted letting go of his hand, because it enabled him to place his palm against one of the thighs that was straddling his waist, and run it gently upwards, to the edge of her shorts, taking his turn at teasing her now. Letting out a soft sound of appreciation, she took notice to his reaction, smiling confidently as she leaned down to make it look like she was going to claim his lips, only to turn her head when their lips were nearly touching, pressing her soft, smooth cheek against his rough, stubbly one, forcing out a soft moan at the sensation, since she saw how it affected him the first time. She felt his chest rise, indicating the sharp intake of air into his lungs as his hand gripped tighter onto her thigh. Brennan slid her cheek softly up his, moaning purposely as erotically as she could.

"Seeley," she moaned in his ear, nipping gently at his earlobe when she was finished.

"Bones," he whispered, hoarsely, "you need to stop."

"Why?" Brennan asked, rubbing her cheek lightly against his once more.

"Because if you keep it up, we're never going to make it to the bed-ah! Shit!" Booth cut himself off in a hiss, when he went to sit up with her, feeling a sharp pain in his lower back, "God dammit! God damn couch from hell!"

"Booth," Brennan's tone was slightly alarmed, as she stood up off of his waist and smoothed her shirt down, not sure if he was hurt because of something she did, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm," he paused when he sat up straight, hissing as his hand moved to his lower back, "just fine. Never been better. A little sex 'll fix it right up. C 'mon."

He stood up carefully, keeping his hand on his lower back when he did, pressing his free hand to her stomach to push her ever-so gently towards her bedroom. Booth had only one thing on his mind at the moment, and it had absolutely nothing to do with his back.

"Booth," Brennan protested, taking a step to the side so he couldn't lead her any longer, "we can't have sex now. It would be incredibly uncomfortable for you to engage in intercourse right now."

"Hey, that which doesn't kill you can only make you stronger, right, Bones?" He nodded towards the bedroom door to signal where he wanted her to go, "C 'mon."

"No," Brennan said, simply, shaking her head, not making any indication that she was planning on moving towards Booth's desired destination any time sooner.

"Well why the hell not?" Booth asked, furrowing an eyebrow at her in curiosity, "I told you I'm fine, you totally wanted it five seconds ago, and the bedroom is only ten feet away. If you'd rather just do it on the couch, then that could be arranged, but I figured I'd be a gentleman and not just-"

"No, that's not it," Brennan held her hand up, cutting him off, "I won't because it would be extremely dangerous for us to engage in sexual intercourse when your back is bothering you. If there's a pulled muscle, or a strained ligament there, engaging in intercourse could make it worse and cause permanent damage. That, along with my arm, are the reasons why we should at least wait until tomorrow."

"There's nothing wrong with my back," he swore, "scout's honor. And what the hell would you need your arm for anyway? You've got one. If you need your arm, for whatever reason, just use the good one."

"Booth, that's not the point," Brennan complained, since he was making it increasingly harder for her to let him down, "we're both injured. My arm should feel better by morning, so if your back feels better by morning, then maybe we can reconsider."

"My back feels fine, I don't feel a thing," he lied, ignoring the biting pain in his lower back, feeling as if somebody was sticking it with a steak knife, "plus, it'll help pass the time, since we don't have anything else to do anyway, with you not having a TV and all."

"No, the answer is no," Brennan stood her ground, as badly as she wanted to give into his pleading, "you should take a hot bath to relax your muscles."

"A bath?" He questioned, "What am I? Five?"

"Fine, if it's such a big deal, then just take a hot shower. Although, I don't see what the big problem with a bath is."

"Do you want me to bring my Power Rangers in the bath with me too?"

"Booth..."

"Fine, I'll tell you what. I'll take a bath, but only if you join me. That's the only way I'm going to take a bath."

Brennan rolled her eyes and pointed towards the bathroom.

"Then have a nice shower," she smiled cutely, receiving a half disappointed and half annoyed look before he went into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him."


	43. Therapy With Sweets: Forgiveness

**A/N: Yet another therapy chapter, since it's been a little while since the last one. =] Today, they discuss the importance of forgiveness.**

**Quick thanks to everyone who's been reading and responding, you guys rock. Sorry the thanks is so short, but I'm practically falling asleep as I'm writting this. xD**

Therapy With Sweets: Forgiveness

Brennan was staying close to Booth that day in therapy, tucked under his arm as she propped her head against his chest, glancing uninterestedly from the wall to the floor, avoiding all eye contact with Sweets. It had been a few days since she last spoke to him, the day she stormed out of his office, but she was still seething mad. Every time she even glanced at him, she wanted to hit him. Hard. She'd begged Booth not to go, to find a new therapist, but he refused, for good reasons. If he asked Cullen for a new therapist, he would want to know why. So they were stuck with Sweets, because Booth wouldn't be able to explain why he wanted a new therapist without letting the truth out about him and Brennan. Brennan, of course, was annoyed, but she decided she would rather deal with Sweets than lose Booth as her partner.

"Doctor Brennan," Sweets tried, for about the third time that hour, "you're going to have to speak with me eventually. Nothing is going to get solved if we don't talk to one another like civilized adults," he held up his hand when Booth opened his mouth to speak, "and, Booth, I'm really not in the mood for a twelve year old joke."

Booth closed his mouth, since that was precisely what he was going to do. Brennan just shifted her head a little bit, the only sound audible in the room being the sound of her hair rubbing against the fabric of Booth's suit jacket when she moved to peek up at him. Booth gave her and encouraging half smile as she turned her head again to finally look at Sweets, feeling the anger burning inside her as soon as they locked eyes.

"Doctor Sweets, what you did is somewhat unforgivable in my eyes," Brennan said simply, glancing up at Booth again, as if to ask for his approval, before she continued, "you told Booth I was cheating on him, with Sully. You tried to break us up."

"I can assure you, I was not trying to break you up," Sweets swore, holding up his hands in a submissive position, "I'm the one who was always pushing you and Agent Booth to admit that you had feelings for one another. What I told Booth was a mistake. I, admittedly, should have gotten all the facts before I told him about what I suspected."

"But you didn't," Brennan reminded him, "and Booth and I got in a pretty bad disagreement over the whole thing. The whole thing that never existed. The thing that you fabricated over a crappy cell phone connection."

"Doctor Brennan, I don't know what else I can say, other than that I'm sorry," Sweets shook his head, obviously not getting through to her, "I feel remorse for what I did, but I can't go back and change it. I thought maybe we'd all be able to put this behind us."

"It's not that easy," Brennan mumbled, the irritation audible in her voice, "this isn't just a little mistake that can be easily brushed off and forgotten about. You're apologizing, and I know you're sincere, but apologies are not enough in this type of situation. Right now more than ever, I need to know that Booth and I are okay. It all became more realistic for me when I was shot at, the fact that there _is_ a gang that has a hit out on me, and as much as I hate to admit it, I could probably use protecting. I need to know that Booth trusts me as much as I trust him. I'm literally trusting him with my life at this point, and I can't have him thinking he can't even trust me to walk outside."

"Doctor Brennan-"

"Bones, I trust you," Booth promised, turning his attention from the wall to the woman sitting next to him, cutting Sweets off mid thought, "we talked about it."

"No, we made out angrily against the wall, and then you asked me how long I'd been 'banging' Sully behind your back. That hardly counts as having a conversation about it."

"Well we talked about it afterwards," Booth tried.

"No, we didn't, Booth. You told me you wouldn't have been surprised if I was cheating on you, I cried, you apologized, kissed me, and then I asked you to bring me to the lab so I could think about it. We never actually talked about it and worked it out. The morning after our big disagreement, when I came to sleep in your bed, after we made love, I told you we needed to talk about it, but you just hushed me and told me 'not now'."

"I didn't think there was anything to talk about," Booth told her, honestly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, "especially after we made love. I thought everything was kind of sorted out after that. I thought we were back to the way we were. Why didn't you tell me that you wanted to talk about it, Bones? It's been a few days since then."

"Because you never want to talk about it," Brennan accused, "every time I tried to talk about it, you found a way out of it. As unpleasant as it is to give Sweets credit for anything right now, I think I understand now why he wanted us to go the three weeks without sex. I knew it was unreasonable for the small little arguments, but with a big fight like this, we can't just cover it up with sex and pretend it never happened. We actually have to talk. Verbally. Not physically. Because there comes a point where sex isn't going to be able to solve our problems."

Sweets was just watching the couple in their intense conversation, flickering his eyes from one to the other when they'd switch speaking roles, neither daring to interrupt the other when it was their turn. He was pleased with the progress they were making right then. Brennan was able to talk about something that was bothering her without it escalating into an argument, which was progress for the two of them, considering mostly whatever they talked about wound up turning into an argument, even if it was just a small one. So he'd, mentally, mark their communication skills as improving. As for the 'not solving your problems with intimacy', he'd have to mentally mark that one 'needs improvement', since, apparently, they still weren't really grasping the concept of that one.

"I didn't think we had a problem anymore," Booth huffed, trying to conceal the irritation in his voice, since she was bringing this all up out of nowhere, as if they didn't work this out days ago, "it's been five days, Bones. Four days since we made love. Three days since you got shot at and I took care of you when you, physically and emotionally. I told you I loved you, I gave you my St. Christopher medal, and made love to you until we both, physically, couldn't go any longer. I asked you to move in with me, washed you up when the bullet grazed your arm, made promises to you that I never have to anyone else. And now you decide to mention that you're still mad at me? After all of that. Shouldn't you have mentioned that before we made love?"

"I wasn't mad at you!" Brennan exclaimed, wanting to make it known to the two other people in the room, Booth and Sweets, that she wasn't the selfish bitch that he'd just described, "I was concerned with our situation, but I wasn't mad, especially not _at_ you. Booth, I want to talk about it because I do want this to work. If I didn't, I just wouldn't care at all. If I was mad, I would have went back to the couch, like I was contemplating doing. I swear, Booth, I was so close to slipping out of bed before you woke up and going back to the couch, hoping that you didn't remember me slipping into bed with you the night prior, but I didn't. Because I didn't want to leave your side, despite the fact that we were in the middle of a fight. When I felt your arms around my waist, I knew in bed with you was where I subconsciously wanted to be. And when you woke up, and we kissed, it felt like that 'first time' feeling was back. It felt right, and that's why we made love, Booth. Because it _was_ right. Because no matter what this man did," she gestured angrily towards Sweets, "that wasn't going to change."

Booth took her face softly between his hands, looking into her eyes the way that made her spine tingle and caused her to shiver. She bit the inside of her cheek, feeling the muscles in her stomach tighten into a knot, just from the intense look he was giving her.

"If you still want to talk about it," Booth's voice is soft, "just say the word."

"I think I've spoken enough," Brennan whispered back, "your turn."

Brennan expected him to go on a whole speech, the way she just had, and was honesty and thoroughly shocked when he kept it very short and to the point.

"I need to know what you want from me," he said softly, brushing his thumbs over her cheek bones, "I've given myself to you, but if you can think of something else you want from me, then you need to tell me."

"I just need you to trust me," she said, softly, "no doubts. Not even the smallest pinch of it. When I leave the house, Sully shouldn't even cross your mind."

"I trust you, Bones, no matter what," he promised, "I think I learned the hard way not to listen to twelve year old shrinks anymore. I know who I can trust to tell me the truth, and that's you."

Brennan attempted to lean forward and capture his lips with hers, but found that to be difficult when he was holding her face the way he was.

"Kiss me," she requested, "convince me."

Without hesitation, Booth gently pulled her face to his, letting her feel his warm breath against her lips for a few seconds before he initiated anything. Brennan felt her breathing hitch, as she whimpered lightly at the intimacy of the moment. When he heard the desperation in the small noise that left her lips, Booth touched his softly to hers, caressing them in a feather light touch. Brennan, normally, would have leaned forward to deepen it, but this time, she felt perfectly content just letting it be soft and gentle, his lips barely touching hers when they brushed over one another. She wrapped her hands around his forearms, making sure his hands didn't leave her face as they kissed, their lips barely touching. They paid no mind to the fact that they had an audience, for the simple fact that they didn't care. Sweets, however, was fascinated, feeling like he couldn't take his eyes off of them. The kiss was so light, so gentle, yet it still emitted such an aura of intimacy that it made him feel as if he needed to crack a window. Brennan whined slightly when she felt him start to pull away, but only relaxed her shoulders when his lips captured her top lip softly between them, allowing her to nip softly at his bottom lip. She let go of his lips when she knew he wanted to move, allowing him to press gentle kisses to the sides of her mouth before capturing her lips once more.

Sweets felt as if he could learn a lot by just watching them kiss one another. He admired the fact that each knew what the other wanted, just by a barely audible noise, or movement of their lips. Booth kissed her upper lip, Brennan knew he wanted her to nip at his. Brennan whined when he kissed the corners of her mouth, Booth knew she wanted, and needed more contact. That was the first time Sweets noticed how real it really was between them. He'd always known that they had feelings for each other, and he believed them when they claimed that they loved each other, but the way they could read one another was incredible to him. The way even just the smallest kiss seemed like the most powerful thing in the world fascinated him.

"Bones," Booth breathed, disconnecting their lips as she looked at him, disappointment swelling in her eyes, "there's small children here."

"Very funny, Agent Booth," Sweets rolled his eyes slightly, knowing it was only a matter of time before Booth made a joke about his age, since it had been a while since the last time he had, "you know, I have a girlfriend. We've done much more than kiss."

"Aw, Little Sweets has been to second base," Booth cooed sarcastically, "he's growing up so fast."

"Actually, Agent Booth, I've made it much further than second base too, but I don't feel comfortable discussing my sex life with you."

Completely and hopelessly confused, Brennan leaned over to whisper in Booth's ear.

"What is the significance of the bases?" She asked, completely clueless as to what they were talking about, "Does baseball signify sexual conquest or something? Like, the further you can hit the ball, the more experienced it means you are."

"You're joking, right?" Booth asked, looking at her seriously, narrowing his eyes in disappointment at the woman sitting next to him, "how do you not know the 'bases'?"

"I learned a little bit about baseball when you asked me to go to the game with you and Parker, but I'm not an expert on it yet," Brennan shrugged, "and speaking of the baseball game, were you able to get tickets to another game? It was very unfortunate that Parker came down with the flu two days prior to the game. What a waste of money."

"Yes, I got tickets to a different game, three of them, but that's not the point," Booth shook his head, when he realized this was turning into a conversation about actual baseball, "and the bases really don't have anything to do with baseball, Bones. I mean, they do, but they don't."

"I, don't understand," Brennan raised an eyebrow curiously.

"The bases, Bones," Booth was getting slightly flustered, trying not to be extremely blunt or graphic about it, "first base is a kiss, second base is some touching, third base is-"

"Oh! You mean, the bases of sexual conquest?" Brennan asked, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"Not the best way of putting it, but sure," Booth told her.

"Then I'm fairly confident that we have hit what they call a 'grand slam'."

"Bones!"

Booth felt his cheeks getting warm, his mouth suddenly feeling slightly dry.

"What?" Brennan asked, defensively, "we've been to last base on numerous occasions. And I know that when the bases are full, and someone hit's a run home, it's called a grand slam. I googled it, the same way I did with those rappers."

"Okay, Bones, it's called a_ home run_, not a run home," he corrected her, "and how about we don't discuss our track around the 'bases' in front of Doctor Virgin here, okay?"

"I don't believe Sweets is a virgin," Brennan said, simply.

"Thank you, Doctor Brennan," Sweets ran his hands through his hair, glad that someone finally believed him on this subject, "I am not a virgin, Agent Booth. You can ask my girlfriend, Daisy. That is, if you two ever meet."

"Yeah, I'll have to add that one to my bucket list," he said sarcastically, glancing down at his watch to see if this session was almost over, "well will ya' look at the time? We gotta run, Bones. It's way past that time that we have to be at that place."

He took her arm in his hand, the one thing that irked her the most, and pulled her gently to her feet, leading her to the door.

"I'm capable of walking," she hissed, yanking her arm out of his grip, his hand on the small of her back as he guided her to the door, "I think you're just on edge because we haven't engaged in any intercourse in three days, due to your back."

"Jeez! Bones! Way to just, share that with the world," Booth shook his head at her lack of filter, seeing Sweets' pupils dilate slightly when she brought up she and Booth's lack of intimacy, "I'm perfectly fine going three days without sex. And my back is fine, by the way."

"Don't be ashamed, Booth. I've been craving a release as well. But, of course, I'm not going to act on it. I wouldn't want to injure your back any further. Sure, there are a few positions that may not create any extra pain, but I don't want to take a chance. I'm only thinking of you, Booth, even though I'm going to need a release soon as well. But then again, there are plenty of alternatives for releases that don't require a mate. Like-"

"Woah! No!" Booth cut her off before she could continue, since she had already cross the line between 'appropriate' and 'too much information a few sentences ago', "no, no, no, absolutely not, Bones. If you say one more word, I'm going to have to shoot good old Doctor Sweets here. And you don't want that, do you?"

"I don't mind," Brennan shrugged, "I'm angry with Sweets. Seeing you shoot him may bring me great satisfaction. It's the least you can do, considering you're unable to do anything with me physically, at least until you see a doctor."

"Bones, I don't need to go to the doctor," he groaned in embarrassment, mortified, his skin flushing red as he lead her quickly to the wooden door, opening it, turning back to Sweets, "Sweets, if you ever tell anyone about this conversation, I _will_ shoot you," he warned.

"Everything we talk about is confidential," Sweets reminded him, even thought Booth had closed the heavy wooden door in the middle of his sentence, "okay, good session. Nice to see you guys too," he said aloud, his voice highly sarcastic, even though there was nobody else in the room to hear it.

Sometimes, he wondered if this was all just a joke that they played on him when they went to therapy, or if these were really normal conversations between the two lovers. And, for some reason, every time he was finished speaking with Brennan and Booth, for their hour long session, he felt as if he needed to spend time with Daisy, and appreciate her. Appreciate nice, normal, sweet, little Daisy, and talk about embarrassing family stories, as opposed to the sexual bases and 'biological urges'.


	44. Especially You

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews and alerts. =] I love the fact that people are enjoying my writing. And I'm also apologizing that the updating hasn't been as frequent. School's really taking a toll on my free time. =p**

**AND WHO ELSE IS TOTALLY PUMPED FOR THE SEASON PREMIER? I can't wait!**

Chapter Forty-Four:

"Especially You"

"See what you did, Bones?" Booth asked, as they walked hastily through the Hoover building, Booth attempting to exit with her as quickly as possible, before anyone could notice the redness in his cheeks and the way he shifted uncomfortably next to her, "you got me all flustered again."

"What did I do?" Brennan asked, innocently, "I was only being truthful. Isn't that what therapy is supposed to be about? Being able to share what you are feeling with somebody who can supposedly help you understand why you feel that way?"

The biting winter air blew harshly against their skin when Booth pulled open the front door, walking with her outside. The sky was a dark grey, the kind that indicated that rain was probably going to be coming in the near future. Booth glanced around him to make sure he was able to speak freely, without the fear of someone overhearing them.

"You were telling him about our sex life, or lack there of, for the time being," he kept his voice in a whisper, just incase someone he didn't see before was lurking behind them, or a little ways off in the distance, "it's none of Sweets' business what happens behind the bedroom door. I know you need to be honest, but sometimes less is more, Bones."

"It is physically and scientifically impossible for 'less' to be 'more'," Brennan looked completely confused, not responding to the whole explanation he'd given her before that sentence, "more means, more. So if there is less, how can there be more?"

"You know what I mean," he accused, "you're changing the subject."

"I am not," Brennan defended, returning to his explanation, "I apologize if I embarrassed you in front of Doctor Sweets. Just because you're older than him, does not make him any better in bed than you are. He may have more stamina, or energy, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's a better lover. It just means you're an older man."

"Are you calling me old?" Booth asked, his eyes seeming to spring into a panic when she mentioned the 'O' word, "because, I'm not even that old."

"I didn't say 'old', I said 'older', as in older than Sweets," Brennan explained, "and even if I did say you were old, why would that bother you? Not to be blunt or anything, but you're not exactly getting any younger. Eventually, you will have to come to terms with the fact that you are no longer a young, limber, energetic, hormonal, man."

"I am not old," Booth repeated, glancing at her with horrified eyes, "but you make me _feel_ old when you talk about how we can't have sex because my back hurts. Usually people don't stop having sex because of back problems until they're in their sixties."

"I'm sorry," Brennan apologized, sincerely, since she honestly didn't know she was making him feel uncomfortable with his age. By this point, they'd reached the car, and Brennan grabbed the cold, metal, door handle with her numb hands. "If it's any consolation," she started, getting into the passenger's seat, "you're still an extraordinary lover."

Booth got into the driver's side, his look of concern quickly changing to a cocky smile as he shut the door behind him, shivering in the coldness of the car, before he put his key in the ignition and turned it on, turning the heat on.

"Thanks, Bones," he turned his body around in the seat so he was facing her, placing his hands on her biceps to rub them up and down, quickly and affectionately, attempting to help warm her up, "so are you."

"Yes, I've been told," she informed him, feeling at ease under his strong hands, even when he was only warming her arms, "on numerous occasions."

"And they say_ I'm _the cocky one," Booth rolled his eyes playfully, slowing the motions of his hands when her skin started to warm slightly under his touch, taking his time to just appreciate the feel of her skin under his hands, "wow," he breathed, after a long pause.

"What?" Brennan asked, thinking she'd done something wrong.

Booth shook his head, telling her silently that it wasn't anything bad.

"You're beautiful," he told her, the rubbing of his hands turned into gentle caresses.

"Booth," she complained, her cheeks growing red, feeling uncomfortable when he gave her the compliment.

"Ah," he pressed a finger to her lips before she could continue, "don't even go there."

"Go where?" Brennan asked, her words muffled by his finger.

"I saw where that was going. It was headed towards squint talk, so I saved us both the trouble and just stopped you while you were ahead."

"I wasn't going to say anything 'squinty'," she spat the last word, since that was really a word she enjoyed using to describe scientific things, "I was just going to remind you that I feel a little uncomfortable when people call me 'beautiful'. Especially you."

"Why 'especially me'?" Booth asked, placing the hand he took off her arm, when he pressed his finger to her lips, back to her left shoulder.

"Because, when I was in highschool, and even college, people like you didn't call people like me beautiful," she explained, feeling slightly embarrassed as she did, "people like you dated the cheerleaders, went to parties, got drunk and had sexual intercourse with random girls in the spare bedroom."

"Gee, thanks, Bones, glad to see that's the way you look at me," Booth rolled his eyes, taking his hands off her arms and pulling on the gear shift to put the SUV in reverse.

"I didn't say you," Brennan reminded him, looking out the window as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"You said people _like_me, which means that the guys who got drunk and partied every night, and slept with different girls everyday remind you of me. You think that's the way I was in highschool." He concluded, slightly irritated, as he drove.

"It could have been the way you were in highschool," Brennan shrugged, completely unaware that she was kind of hurting his feelings at the moment, "I mean, you were a football player. You're attractive. Girls probably wanted to engage in intercourse with you. If you were like that in highschool, it's not going to make my opinion of you change."

"That doesn't mean I wanted to 'engage in intercourse' with them," he told her, his voice having an irritated edge to it, "don't get me wrong, I had my fair share of sexual experience in highschool, but I wasn't a pig. And I especially wasn't a _shallow_pig. I would have found you just as beautiful in highschool as I do now."

Brennan placed her hands in her lap, lacing her fingers together to keep them warm as she stared out the front of the windshield, finally realizing that he wasn't taking this as lightly as she was.

"Am I offending you?" She asked, obliviously.

"Yes," Booth told her, honestly, "normally people are offended when they're called pigs."

"I never called you a pig," Brennan huffed, "maybe, I worded it wrong when I said 'people like you'. I didn't mean that you did the same things that they did, I meant people like you as in the attractive athletes who could get with any girl they desired."

Booth just nodded once in response, still slightly annoyed at her. He didn't want to be dramatic, or make a fuss about the fact that she needed to learn when to filter her thoughts, but he was just going to need a couple minutes of quiet. Of course, when he only nodded, Brennan couldn't keep quiet.

"You're angry with me," she accused.

"Bones, just let it go, okay?" He asked.

"I'm not going to 'let it go', Booth," she said, stubbornly, "I want to know why you're angry with me. We promised. No more bottling up feelings and thoughts, no more secrets. If I offended you, you need to tell me so that we can attempt to solve it."

"It's nothing, Bones," he swore, clicking on the radio, since things were starting to get a little tense, the way they had years ago, when they still weren't too fond of one another, "sure, I was a little offended, but it's not a big deal."

Brennan was going to say something in response, but she decided against just closing her eyes, and letting out a soft, frustrated breath, knowing that he was just in one of those moods where he was going to need a few minutes to himself. She just focused on the radio as they drove in silence, wishing that she could have just kept the 'people like you' comment to herself, even though, in her defense, when she said it, she didn't know that it was going to offend him the way it did. If only time travel were possible, she'd have stopped herself before it flew out of her mouth.

The radio played a couple songs that Brennan wasn't familiar with, but when it got about three or four songs in, she wasn't sure which, a song she knew finally started to play. It had been one of her favorite songs in highschool. It was 'Kiss from a Rose', the song by Seal. She wondered if she could speak to him again, since it had been a little while of silence, and decided she would give it a shot, figuring he must have been over it by then.

"I like this song," she commented, keeping her voice soft.

"I know you do," Booth responded, his voice at the same volume as hers, "you know a grand total of three songs, and this is one of them."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, giving her a small smile, as if silently telling her that all was well between them.

"I do not," Brennan laughed lightly, relieved to see that he was no longer angry with her, "I know quite a few songs, this one happens to be one of my favorites," she sighed at the memories of her teenage years that the song brought forth, "I kind of regret not going to my senior prom," she admitted.

"How come?" Booth asked, glancing at her, curiously.

"Because," Brennan shrugged, not really able to put her finger on exactly why, "it's just one of those things that you only get to experience once. Everybody who went to my school has the memories to look back on, and I feel as if I missed out."

She looked at him curiously when he started to pull over onto the side of the road. It was virtually empty, probably because the sky was so dark, at this point, that it looked like there was going to be a hurricane.

"What are you doing?" Brennan asked, when he put the car in park on the shoulder, and opened his door, circling the car to open hers for her afterwards, "Booth, it's going to rain. If we want to make it back before it starts to downpour, we probably shouldn't be making pointless stops on the side of the road."

"Who says this stop is pointless?" Booth asked, tugging on her hand to urge her out of the car, "maybe the car's making a noise and I'm just going to check under the hood."

"I didn't hear any noises," Brennan said, clearly not picking up on his sarcastic tone.

"Just play along, Bones," he rolled his eyes playfully, closing the passenger side door after she was out of the car, taking her hand and leading her back around the car.

Booth reached into the car, not bothering to close the driver's side door, and turned up the volume on the radio, allowing the soft sounds of 'Kiss from a Rose' to play out of the open door. Before she could protest against it, he pulled Brennan into his chest, taking her hands to put them in their correct positions before he moved his, holding her close in a 'slow dance' stance.

"Booth, maybe we should wait until we get home, and then we can resume this dance indoors, where we aren't going to get soaked," Brennan suggested, propping her head against his shoulder, making no attempts to pull away from the embrace.

"You really suck at being spontaneous," he pointed out, swaying gently with her in timing to the music that was playing out of the car, "and it's not even raining yet."

"_Yet_ being the keyword in that statement," Brennan said, simply.

"Jeez, do you ever shut up?" he laughed lightly, "Just. Play. Along."

Brennan opened her mouth to speak again, only to be cut off when she felt his hand move from the small of her back to press a gentle finger against her lips.

"Shh," Booth whispered lightly, the soft sound sending shivers up Brennan's spine, "no more talking."

Brennan just let out a small puff of breath, and allowed her head to relax against his shoulder. She felt his hand move from her lips back to it's original place against the small of her back, holding her close as they swayed in perfect timing with one another and the music. She'd never considered herself a good dancer, but when she was dancing with Booth, she didn't feel the need to watch her feet, or think non stop about each move she was making. She just felt, almost, safe. Like she could do no wrong when they were dancing together. Each lyric of the familiar song seemed to go in one ear and out the other, the only sounds she could focus on being the sound that the fabric of his coat and shirt made when she'd shift her head on his shoulder and cause them to rub together. The music continued, filling the silent space around them.

_Baby, I might compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey_

_Ooh, the more I get of you the stranger it feels, yeah._

_And now that your rose is in bloom,_

_a light hits the gloom on the grey._

Brennan wasn't even aware that the song was gradually coming to a close until she felt Booth's lips against hers, causing her to gasp lightly, but no hesitate to kiss him back.

_Yes I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey_

_Ooh, the more I get from you the stranger it feels, yeah._

_Now that your rose is in bloom,_

_a light hits the gloom on the grey._

Brennan felt a small plop of water on her head, but ignored it, figuring it was just going to drizzle. Normally, she would have ran inside to shield herself from even the tiniest raindrop, but right then, she was busy entertaining Booth's mouth with her tongue the same way he was doing to her. _Plop, plop, plop_. The drips of water on her head became more consistent, but she was too distracted to notice. Booth noticed the rain as well, but only deepened the kiss when he felt the water starting to pelt them at a growing pace. Brennan moaned softly when his tongue connected with hers, barely noticing when the sky seemed to practically open up, the rain pelting them relentlessly, only causing them to deepen the kiss further, to match it's pace.

_Now that your rose is in bloom, _

_A light hits the gloom on the grey._

Brennan fisted his soaking wet jacket in her hand, her other hand on his back, pressing him close to her body as their lips mingled in a hot, wet, frenzy, practically devouring each other as the rain poured in buckets over their bodies. Booth moved one of his hands to frame the side of her face, tucking a lock of her dripping wet hair behind her ear, his lips never leaving hers. Brennan clutched tighter onto the fabric of his coat, feeling a moan rise from her throat, only to be smothered by his mouth before it could make a noise. By this time, a new song had begun to play, but neither of them were paying any mind to the music, which was nearly drowned out by the rain at that point. The only thing that pulled them out of their moment was when thunder cracked loudly through the air, the sky lighting up only a couple seconds later.

"Mm, Bones," Booth mumbled, pulling away from her lips, feeling her leaning forward to keep their lips connected for as long as possible, "come on, it's starting to get bad."

Brennan looked at the road, watching the raindrops bounce off the concrete, the air area around them filled with the sounds of hundreds of raindrops pelting against the pavement, and the occasional crack of thunder.

"Bones," Booth tried again, having to raise his voice to speak over the rain.

"Oh," Brennan snapped out of her trance, "right. We should go inside."

Booth laughed lightly as they both sped walked to the car, getting into the warm confinements of the SUV. Brennan shivered at the contrast in temperature, as Booth cranked the heat back up all the way before closing his door, shaking the excess rain out of his hair. After ruffling his hands through his wet hair, he playfully and affectionately shook flicked the water off his hands at Brennan, causing her to wince away from him and laugh.

"Booth, stop," she laughed lightly, shielding her face with her hands.

"You're already soaked," Booth reminded her, "covering your face isn't going to help."

Brennan just shrugged and dropped her hands back to her sides, glancing at him when she felt the car purr back to action and start to drive once more.

"Are you hungry?" Brennan asked.

"I could eat," Booth responded, honestly, "you?"

"Me too," she nodded, keeping her eyes focused on the rain outside.

"Diner?" He asked, glancing apologetically at her when he remembered what happened last time they were at the diner, "or is it too soon?"

"No, the diner is fine," Brennan promised, nodding once, "I've been to that diner numerous times, and only once did something bad occur. It's highly unlikely that another incident is going to occur if we go back today."

There was a short silence between them before Booth spoke again.

"So does that mean you want to go to the diner?" Booth asked, not really following her logic.

"Yes, that means I want to go to the diner," Brennan laughed lightly, seeing him smile out of the corner of her eye, as he accelerated the car and headed towards the diner for a late lunch, or early dinner.


	45. Curiosity Killed the Cat

**A/N: I think you all get the point, by now, that I'm grateful for the reviews/alerts/favorites, right?I've only said it forty five times. xD**

**So, here's a chapter of just fluffy, steamy, goodness. AND THERE'S A REASON. There's gonna be some angst soon (probably next chapter) not between Brennan and Booth, but, I really can't say anything without giving it away. So I gave you all a little treat of fluffiness before it gets angsty. I'm gonna make the angst pretty short, 'cause I know some of you aren't big on it, but I think it's necessary for a sort of 'turning point' in their relationship. So yeah. =] Enjoy your treat.**

**I'm so excited for season six, by the way. xDD Just figured I'd tell you all again.**

Chapter Forty-Five:

"Curiosity Killed The Cat"

"You know, I know a very good chiropractor, who may be able to fix your back in five minutes maximum," Brennan suggested, Booth's house keys jingling as he unlocked the door.

"You really just can't let it go, can you?" Booth had to laugh, as he pulled open the front door of his place, and let her walk in before he did, enabling him to close the door behind him, "my back is fine. It barely even hurts anymore. It'll, pinch, every now and then, but other than that, I don't feel a thing."

Brennan dropped her purse against the wall next to the door, shifting uncomfortably in her wet clothes. On the way to the diner, she'd brought up the point that they were soaking wet, and should probably shower and change before they went anywhere, which turned out to be a good idea, since the wet fabric rubbing against her skin was already proving to be slightly irritating.

"I still think you should see a doctor," Brennan would never let him win. It just wasn't the Temperance Brennan way. "If it's become a reoccurring problem, seeing a doctor is the only logical solution. Unless, of course, you're afraid of the doctor. The way you are of the dentist."

"I am _not_ afraid of the dentist," Booth said, sternly, sounding more as if he were trying to convince himself, rather than her, "and I'm not afraid of the doctor either. Besides, I'm already seeing a doctor. You're a doctor. I'm seeing you."

Brennan rolled her eyes at the corny joke, seeing a playful smile pulling at the edges of his lips.

"Clever," her tone was sarcastic as she rolled her eyes playfully, "and you haven't been seeing much of me lately, considering you won't just go to the doctor. If you went and got your back fist, we'd be able to have relations again. But you're so, stubborn."

"_I'm_ stubborn?" Booth questioned her, "How many times have I told you that my back is fine? If you want to have 'relations'," he put extra emphasis on the word, to show her how ridiculous she made it sound, "just say the word, because I've been wanting to have 'relations' for three days now. It's you who won't."

"Because I don't want to hurt you," Brennan reminded him, rolling her eyes when she had to repeat herself, "I don't know how many times I have to say it."

"I heard you the first few times, I'm just ignoring you, the same way you ignore me when I tell you that my back feels fine."

"Because you lied when you first hurt your back! You just want to have sex!"

"We all have 'biological needs', Bones, and I'm overdue for a release."

"I had my last release the same time you did, so don't even try to use _that_ defense."

"And you need a release too, I can see it all over your face."

Brennan narrowed her eyes at him. Damn him for being so good at reading people. She'd thought that she wasn't making it too obvious how badly she wanted and needed a release.

"I don't," she lied, looking at him seriously.

"You do," Booth's tone was slightly darker as he took a step closer to her, tracing an index finger softly down the exposed skin of her chest, where her v-neck shirt uncovered, "I saw it in your eyes in the rain. I see it now. You want to, so bad. You're practically begging me with your eyes to throw you on the couch, rip your clothes off, and have my way with you."

"If that's what I wanted I would initiate it myself," Brennan growled, grasping his finger to pull it off her skin, "I don't need anything from you, Seeley Booth. You're the one who needs a release. You're the one who's been talking about it for days."

"You're the one who brought it up at therapy," he reminded her, "you wanted me to think about it, so I'd lose control and give you the release you'd been craving."

"I crave nothing," Brennan kept her composure.

Brennan gasped when he quickly turned to nip at her ear.

"You're a terrible liar, Temperance," his voice was husky in her ear.

Booth could hear the sharp intake of breath coming from Brennan, as she only let it out in a soft hiss, using every bit of control she had not to move her hands to his back, or his hair as he teased her earlobe between his teeth.

"And you're an ass," she told him, her voice in a whisper, but her tone sharp.

"Don't you use that tone with me, Doctor Brennan," he teased, pressing a kiss to the sensitive space under her ear, before whispering against her skin, "why am I an ass?" He asked, "Because I'm the only one that can do this to you? Make you feel like this?"

Brennan was hardly even aware that her fingers were quickly and gracefully slipping the buttons of his shirt open, as if almost against her will.

"Mmm 'atta girl, Bones," Booth's voice was smooth as velvet in her ear, as she reached up to push his suit jacket off his shoulders when the shirt was only halfway undone, "you don't have to tell me how much you want me," he started on the buttons of her blouse as he spoke, his words barely processing in her mind, since her thoughts were focused on getting his shirt open at the moment, "I already know, baby."

"Don't call me baby, you cocky bastard" she growled, just pulling the last two buttons open in frustration, able to see the little clear buttons fall lamely to the floor, "I expected them to pop off and fly in both directions, like they do in the movies."

"This isn't the movies, sweetheart," he reminded her, the term 'sweetheart' just as obnoxious, in Brennan's eyes, as baby was, "this is real life."

Brennan was about to respond snidely, only to be cut off when he dipped his head down and pressed his lips to her neck, covering her skin in searing kisses. Unable to speak, Brennan just pressed her palm to the back of his head, holding it close to her skin as her eyes slipped shut in pleasure.

"Booth?" she moaned softly, unsure of why she was asking for him at the moment.

"Mmm?" He only responded with a small sound, as his lips worked their magic on the base of her throat.

"I-I don't know," Brennan admitted timidly, "I don't think my mouth and my mind are working in unison at the momen-Oh!"

She squeaked when he purposely teased a sensitive spot on her neck to temporarily shut her up, pulling her shirt easily over her shoulders and letting it flutter effortlessly to the ground. Even though she was aware that he was only teasing her to get her to stop talking, she couldn't resist pressing soft kisses to his hairline, taking a step back to pin herself against the wall, pulling Booth along with her.

"No," Booth mumbled against her neck, pulling her back away from the wall, his hands on her biceps as he lead her over to the couch, "we are _not_ having sex against the wall."

Brennan moved her hands to pull at his 'cocky' belt buckle.

"Who said we're having sex at all?" She challenged, stiffening up when he tried to push her to the couch, only to show him that she was in charge of when and where they did this, even though she was still tugging at the red belt buckle.

"We're having sex," he told her, rather than asked, leaning away from her neck to gesture towards her frustrated hands, "look at you. You're so hot and bothered that you can't even get my belt buckle off."

"That has nothing to do with it," she growled, pulling him downwards by the belt buckle until they reached the floor, "now take it off," she tapped the rooster to signal what she was talking about in her demand.

Booth laughed in a husky and cocky tone as he popped the belt buckle off with ease, hearing it thump lightly against the floor when Brennan shoved it away hastily.

"The floor?" He questioned her, as she pulled impatiently at the button on his pants, getting easily frustrated with all the practically child proof fasteners on his clothes, "Is this really the best place to be making love?"

"Oh, we're not making love, Seeley Booth," she laughed huskily, taking a break from the buttons and zippers to smooth her hands over his abdomen, "we're having hot, crappy, sex."

**(line break)**

"You're a bad girl, Temperance Brennan," Booth informed her, chuckling breathlessly as he turned his head to examine the woman laying next to him, her chest rising and falling with her panting breaths.

They'd somehow managed to pull a throw blanket off the couch to entangle themselves in, their bodies tangled together in a hot, sweaty, bundle on the living room floor. Booth glanced around his living room, seeing clothes strewn to the left and right of where they were laying, some articles of clothing laying together in an unorganized heap of their former desire.

"I don't know what got into me," she admitted, between heavy breaths.

"I have a pretty good idea of what got into you," Booth winked playfully at her, only receiving a playful slap in the arm in return, "Ow," he laughed, rubbing the mark she left on his arm, "I was just being affectionate, Bones."

Brennan draped her arm across his stomach, nuzzling affectionately into the crook of his neck, showing him the kind of affection that she enjoyed. She shivered when she felt Booth's index finger trace carefully down her spine.

"How does your back feel?" She asked, realizing, only then, that the whole reason they were having that argument in the first place was because of his back, and not only did she give in to what he wanted, but on the floor no less, which was probably less than comfortable.

"Fine. Perfect," he told her, arching his shoulders back in a relieved stretch, misplacing Brennan's head from the crook of his neck for only a few seconds before she was settled back into her comfortable place, "I think you fixed it."

"That's highly improbable," she shook her head, "you'll probably feel it later, which is why I didn't want to have intercourse with you in the first place. What just happened, right here, on the living room floor, wasn't supposed to happen."

"You're the one who suggested the floor, not me," Booth reminded her, seeing her glare up at him, only giving her a cocky smile in return, "don't even pretend you're not satisfied."

"Oh, I'm very satisfied," she had to crack a smile, "and, not to sound perverted, but the fact that we couldn't even make it to the bedroom just made it that much more stimulating."

Booth laughed at her comment, dropping a soft kiss to the hair on the top of her head.

"I've never been the biggest fan of floor-sex," he told her, looking to the ceiling, as if he were pondering something, "you know, it's not very comfortable. But, honestly, having floor-sex with you is better than regular sex with anyone else."

"Booth," Brennan laughed softly, feeling his lips press to her collarbone, working their way across, "you're bluffing."

"Am not," he mumbled against her skin, "it's all true."

Brennan just laughed lightly in response, closing her eyes as she soaked in the feeling he was giving her when he nipped the skin of her collarbone, occasionally dipping the tip of his tongue teasingly into the crease between her collarbone and her shoulder.

"Was Tessa good in bed?" Brennan asked, completely out of no where.

"Not the appropriate time for _that_ question," he told her without any hesitation, his lips never leaving her skin when he did, "I'd prefer we didn't talk about past lovers when we're laying on the floor, in our sexual aftermath, with our hands and lips all over each other."

"I'm not asking for details," Brennan shrugged, her hand bracing the back of his head, unaware of what was wrong with her question, "I was just curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat," Booth reminded her, his tongue tracing over the trail he just left over her collarbone with his lips.

"I don't know what that means," she gave his hair a gentle tug, showing her approval, as she contained the moan rising up in her chest, "I don't necessarily like cats anyway."

"It's just an expression," he laughed, leaning away from her skin, as she made a small noise of protest, "c 'mon, Bones, go take a shower," he tapped her blanket covered stomach with his index and middle finger, going from being romantic and lusty to playful and friendly in a matter of seconds, "we were supposed to go to the diner and we never did. I'm starving."

"Ten more minutes," she tried, sounding like a little kid having to wake up for school, as she tugged on his arm, attempting to pull him back down to cuddle up with her again.

"No," Booth complained, rubbing a small circle into the blanket that was covering her stomach, her skin able to feel the pressure of his motions, "a guy needs to eat. We'll have plenty of time for sex and cuddling later."

Brennan let out a small breath of annoyed disappointment before she sat up next to him, leaning her head against her partner's shoulder with a sigh.

"Are you being a drama queen, Doctor Brennan?" Booth asked, his voice mocking shock when he saw how she was making it seem almost as if he kicked her out on the street.

"No," Brennan said, simply, shaking her head, "maybe I just wanted a second round."

"Did you?" Booth asked, his eyebrow cocked curiously at her now, "because, if that's the case, then I think my stomach can wait."

"Maybe," Brennan narrowed her eyes, tilting her head cutely at him, "maybe not."

"You little temptress," Booth laughed, taking her hand to press soft kisses across her knuckles, just because his lips were growing bored.

"Hmm," Brennan purred, reacting to even the smallest touch before she pulled on his hand, gesturing for him to stand with her.

"What?" Booth asked, wondering what his little temptress was up to now.

"Shower," she said, nodding towards the bathroom, as if that were obvious, "maybe, once we get in the shower, I'll make up my mind of whether I'm up for a second round or not."

Booth rolled his eyes playfully, keeping them wrapped in the warm blanket as he stood up with Brennan, her arms around his waist and his hands clutching her biceps gently as he pulled her toward the bathroom.

"I must say, we take exceptionally enjoyable showers together," Brennan gave him a nod of her head in approval, as Booth agreed, opening the bathroom door to lead her in, letting go of one of her arms to turn on the water, "however, they aren't very efficient in the 'getting clean' department, which is what a shower is for."

"What are you talking about?" Booth mocked surprise when she stated that their showers together were fairly pointless, "I wash your hair. And I wash your body, after I'm finished kissing you, because I don't want you to taste like soap."

"I don't mind when you taste like soap," Brennan shrugged, "as long as I'm not actually eating the soap, the taste left on your skin doesn't bother me. Although, the smell of it is much more pleasing than the taste."

"Thank you, for giving me an idea for an invention," Booth smiled proudly, gently shaking the blanket off her shoulder before he stepped into the shower with her, having to raise his voice just a little to speak over the water, "edible soap."

Brennan arched her back in comfort when the steaming water cascaded over her back, unintentionally arching into her partner, only to feel his arms circle her waist and hold her there, nuzzling the now wet skin of her neck as she smiled and leaned her head back to politely provide him with more surface area. At that particular moment in time, she wasn't worried in the slightest about getting clean. She only wanted to stay there, with her partner, her best friend, her lover, and feel his arms around her, holding her close as the hot shower water caressed over their skin. She didn't complain when he kissed her neck, as opposed to washing her back, like he was supposed to, she just, happily, allowed him to do what he wanted, and wound up feeling much more refreshed, when all was said and done, then she ever would have if she showered alone.


	46. Fancy Meeting You Here

**A/N: Again, thank you to anyone who's submitted any sort of feedback, (alerts, reviews, ect.) and even to anyone who's just been reading and coming along for the ride. =] I'm running on cold and flu medicine right now, so if there's any mistakes, feel free to point them out. I don't do my best writing when I'm sick. =[**

**Okay, so this is where the drama starts (dun dun dun). I'm not going to rush through it, but I don't want to torture you guys by making it agonizingly slow either. **

Chapter Forty-Six:

"Fancy Meeting You Here"

"Okay, Bones, it's times like these that I realize how culturally lost you really are," Booth informed her, before popping a ketchup dipped fry into his mouth.

A nice go-round, and a shower later, they were finally at the diner, the place that they originally set out to go to before home proved to be too distracting. Brennan furrowed an eyebrow in curiosity as she watched her partner, stealing a french fry off of his plate.

"It's just a song, Booth," she reminded him, seeing the look of horror he gave her when she shoved the diner fry into her mouth before he could snatch it back, "if I never heard of it I'm sure it can't be _that_ popular or life changing."

"Not popular?" Booth asked, pulling his plate towards him, to make sure she had no further access to his food, "Don't Stop Believing. It's a classic. Everybody knows that song. Come on, it has the most famous first lines to ever be in a song. Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world? Ringing any bells?"

"Nope, no bells," Brennan shook her head, taking a sip of her Coke, her eyes occasionally glancing back to Booth's fries, "doesn't even sound vaguely familiar."

"You need a lesson in pop culture," he concluded, placing a fry on the edge of Brennan's salad plate, when he saw how much she really wanted the little piece of fried potato, "not that I didn't know you were pop culturally challenged in the first place, but this just proves my point. How the hell do you not know Journey? Do you live in a cave?"

Brennan nodded in a silent thank you, dipping her french fry in the ketchup on the side of Booth's plate before she took a bite off of the top.

"You've seen my place before," she reminded him, "it most certainly is not a cave. You just get very worked up when I don't know songs, or movies, or television shows."

"_Worked up _is a little bold of a term," he muttered, pulling his plate towards him once more when Brennan reached back across the table for another fry, "Bones, if you wanted fries so badly then why didn't you just get a side order with your bird food you got there?"

"It's not bird food," she complained at his choice of words, poking at her salad with the metal fork, "it's a salad. And I obviously wasn't aware that I wanted fries until I smelled yours."

"So naturally you'd just steal them," his tone was sarcastic but playful, as he flashed a smile at her from across the table, "instead of, I don't know, ordering your own?"

"Well I don't want the waitress to think I'm a burden," she rolled her eyes.

Booth sucked in a breath, letting it out in a sigh.

"Wow," he breathed, "you _never _cease to amaze me."

"What?" Brennan laughed lightly, unaware of why he found that so ironic, or funny, or whatever he found it, "I don't understand."

Booth went to explain to her, but quickly cut himself off when he saw who walked through the doors of the diner. Without explaining, he grabbed a menu and unfolded it, placing it opened on the side of the table, ducking his head behind it to whisper to Brennan.

"Don't look to your left," he warned her, when she ducked her head as well to meet up with him behind the menu.

Instinctively, Brennan looked to her left, immediatly regretting it when she locked eyes with the person who Booth was trying to avoid. The man's lips turned into a smile as he held his hand up to give her a wave from where he was standing by the door.

"Bones," Booth growled, his tone sharp, "I said _don't_ look to your left!"

"Well it's too late now," Brennan told him, shrugging her shoulders.

"Jeez! For once, I wish you would just listen to me! Now look what you did, he's coming over here. Maybe if you duck again he'll forget he-"

"Tempe!" Sully's voice cut Booth off from where he was hiding behind the menu, as Brennan poked her head up to show him a plastic smile, "hey."

"Hi, Sully," her voice was a few octaves higher than usual, trying way too hard to try and make herself seem happy to see him, "it's been quite some time."

"Yeah, it has," Sully agreed, peering curiously at the menu, which still had the broad FBI agent ducking behind it, in attempt to hide himself, "who are you hiding back there?" He picked up the menu and shut it, as Booth chuckled and looked up at him, an awkward smile on his face, "oh, Booth, what a surprise," Sully's voice was sarcastic.

"Well I guess I'm just, busted," Booth laughed in a fake manner, making sure it sounded as cheesy as possible, "I was going to jump out and yell 'surprise', but you caught me."

"Yeah," Sully's expression looked slightly confused, as he moved his gaze from Booth back to Brennan, resuming his conversation with her, "so how've you been? I feel like you've been avoiding me since we got back in touch. I called you the other day, wanted to know if you wanted to go get sandwiches like old times, but there was no answer."

"I can't eat sausage sandwiches anymore," Brennan said, gesturing towards her salad.

"A diet?" Sully asked, completely clueless, "you, don't need a diet, Tempe."

"She's a vegetarians," Booth told him, cutting Brennan off when she opened her mouth to explain, shooting Booth an irritated glance when he spoke for her, "for now," he added.

"Don't listen to Booth," Brennan scoffed, nodding her head at the man sitting across from her, "I decided to change my eating habits, not just for now, but forever."

"Wow, saving the world one tofu burger at a time," Sully gave her a nod of approval, "way to go, Brennan," he looked at Booth's half eaten burger on the plate in front of him, glancing from the food, to it's consumer's face, "maybe you should follow your partner's example."

"Like the saying goes, I'll stop eating meat when it stops tasting so good," Booth smiled charmingly, picking up his burger to take a bite out of it, his next words muffled by the food in his mouth, "and I don't see you running for the salad bar either, pal."

"Well I'm not the one chowing down on a big, meaty, hamburger either," he pointed out.

"He has a good point, Booth," Brennan added her two cents in.

Booth looked from Sully to Brennan, then back to Sully, starting to feel like he was being deemed as the 'Earth Killer' of the table.

"Listen, it's not like I slaughtered the cow myself," Booth defended himself, setting his burger down, to please the anthropologist and fellow FBI agent, "the cow was already killed, and put into a nice little package, so I just did the favor of eating it. Think of it this way. If no one ate the cow that was slaughtered, they would have killed it for no reason. At least now it knows that it died for a good cause. To make a delicious hamburger."

"But if no one ate the slaughtered cows they wouldn't slaughter anymore," Sully pointed out.

"Sully is clearly winning this argument," Brennan interjected.

Booth rolled his eyes at his former friend's pathetic attempt to get his ex girlfriend back into his pants, by pretending he was now an environmentalist.

"Listen, Tim, why don't you just speed up the process and invite Bones back to your apartment now? Because we all know that's where this conversation is going. You're seeming to forget that I'm a guy too. We make stuff up to get with girls."

"What?" Sully asked, completely caught off guard when Booth called him out.

"Booth!" Brennan scolded him, shocked by his bluntness.

But then again, Booth was the alpha male. He had to let Sully know that he was treading his territory, which was Brennan, and warn him to back off. Also, Brennan figured, the boldness and bluntness of his statement may have made him feel dominant over the other man. It was a battle of testosterone, and Booth was going to make sure that he was victorious.

"Oh, no, Booth, you have this completely wrong," Sully shook his head, holding up his hands in a submissive stance, "I'm waiting for someone, that's why I'm here."

"You're seeing someone?" Brennan asked, feeling a pang of hurt in the pit of her stomach, even though she was unsure why, since she and Sully had been broken up for over a year, and she was completely content and satisfied with Booth.

"Kind of," Sully shrugged, modestly, "remember I told you about the girl I was going to the Valentine's Day thing with? Well, we kind of hit it off, and we've been talking a little, but it's nothing serious. We're just taking it slow, seeing how things play out."

"I'm," Brennan paused, aware of the fact that she was doing a terrible job at hiding the way she was really feeling when she found out that Sully was seeing someone else, "happy for you."

Booth glanced at her, at that moment, hating the fact that he was able to read her like a book. He wished, somewhere in his mind, that he couldn't see through her lies so easily right then, since knowing that she was upset over Sully hurt just a little bit.

"Yeah," Sully said, easily hearing the pain in her voice as well, making him feel slightly guilty for telling her.

There was a short silence between the three of them, as Booth refrained from commenting on Sully's relationship status.

"So," Sully finally broke the awkward silence, "you two, you've been spending an awful lot of time together lately, haven't you?"

"Booth is my partner," Brennan said, almost a little too quickly, "we solve murders. We have to spend time together. That's what we do."

"'Partners' isn't the word that comes to mind when I look at the two of you," Sully told them, honestly, "especially not when you're hiding behind a menu together."

"We weren't hiding," Brennan said, shrugging her shoulders, as if that were obvious, "we were talking about a case, so we had to make sure nobody else could hear us."

Brennan was a little concerned by how easily lying had been coming to her in this conversation. Between acting like she didn't care about Sully's relationship with the young worker at the Jeffersonian and fabricating a top secret case, almost everything that came out of her mouth in the past couple minutes had been less than the truth.

Sully was about to respond to Brennan's statement, before feeling a light touch on his shoulder, causing him to turn his head to look at the woman standing behind him. Brennan couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit jealous when she saw the look he gave the petite blonde haired woman. It was the same look he used to give to her. The same smile.

"Hey," his tone softened when he saw the woman's blue eyes sparkling adoringly up at him, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her lips before taking her by the shoulders and turning her to face Brennan and Booth, "Tempe, Booth, this is Claudia. Claudia, this is Seeley Booth, he works at the FBI with me, and his partner, Doctor Temperance Brennan, if the two of you don't know each other from work already."

"Yes, I don't know Doctor Brennan personally, but I know she works at the Jeffersonian. A different part than I work in," Claudia nodded politely at both of them, a smile on her face "nice to meet you both."

"Nice to meet you too, Claudia," Booth responded politely back, glancing at Brennan, waiting for a response from her, only to see that she wasn't planning on saying anything to Sully's new girlfriend.

Brennan remained silent, barely noticing Booth's eyes on her as she held the salt shaker that was placed on the table, and absent mindedly rolled it in her hand.

"Claudia works in the Egyptology department," Sully added in, gesturing towards the blonde, as she nodded eagerly in response.

"Yes," she glanced up at Sully approvingly, "something about ancient Egypt has always interested me, even when I was in school. It was the only type of history I really liked learning about. The rest of it was all just very, bland in my eyes."

"Bland?" Brennan asked, finally looking at the woman standing next to their table, "What is bland about how humans came to occupy the Earth? And about our history as a society and a culture? I'd say that history is the polar opposite of 'bland'."

Claudia looked slightly intimidated when she received the lecture from Brennan.

"But everyone is entitled to their opinion," Booth reminded his partner, flashing her a warning glance before smiling back up at the younger woman, "I never liked history either. The most productive thing I ever did in a history class was catch up on my sleep."

Brennan felt slightly annoyed when Booth sided with Sully's new girlfriend, feeling as if now, not only had Sully preferred the younger, blonde, social, beauty, but she was feeling like maybe Booth did too. Claudia laughed softly at Booth, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear when she did, occasionally taking a glance up at Sully, who had his arm draped casually around her waist.

"Well Claudia and I are going to go grab a table and eat so we don't miss the eight o' clock showing of the movie we're going to see," Sully said, unwrapping his arm from around her waist to give her the freedom to move, "Tempe, Booth, I'll catch up with you guys later, okay?"

"Have fun," Booth gave Claudia a friendly wave before she and Sully disappeared to a table closer to the back of the Royal Diner.

He turned his attention back to Brennan, who was tapping her fingers against the table, watching as her nails made a drumming sound on the table top. Normally, if she got annoyed at Booth at the diner, she'd just look out the window, watching the cars pass by on the road, but she didn't have that option that night, since, ever since he found out that Mara Muerte had a hit out on her, he would make sure that they got a seat far from the window.

"Hey, Bones," Booth grabbed her attention, putting his hand over hers to stop the incessant tapping of her fingers against the table, "what's up?"

"Nothing," Brennan responded flatly, staring blankly at the hand he had over hers.

"Something," he corrected her, his eyes narrowing in confusion, "hey," he tried, softening his tone when he saw that something was obviously bothering her, "look at me."

Brennan, uninterestedly, lifted her gaze to look into those familiar and reassuring brown eyes, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"What's wrong?" Booth tried again.

"Nothing's _wrong_," Brennan put emphasis on his choice in wording, "I just have a question for you."

"Go ahead," he encouraged, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

"Do I bore you?" She asked, bluntly.

"What?" Booth asked, caught off guard by her question, "No, of course not, Bones. Why are you even asking me that?"

"I don't know," Brennan admitted, knowing she was being illogical, "you seemed to share more of a common bond with the Egyptologist that Sully's seeing."

"Because I didn't like history?" Booth laughed lightly, seeing an embarrassed smile toying at the edges of Brennan's lips.

"I don't know," Brennan shrugged, repeating the words she said only a minute prior, "I guess my subconscious mind was feeling slightly insecure again."

Booth looked at her curiously, before asking his question.

"Does Sully having a new girlfriend bother you?" He asked, seriously.

"Kind of," Brennan admitted, sheepishly, her gaze falling once again so she didn't have to make eye contact, "it's not that I'm not satisfied with you, because I am," she told him quickly, before he could get all bent out of shape, thinking she was back to being against monogamy, "it's just, strange to see Sully with someone else, that's all. It's illogical, I know, because I'm seeing someone else as well, but I can't really control the way my mind reacts to things," she paused, trying to read his expression, "do you get jealous when Rebecca sees other men?"

"I don't get jealous," he told her honestly, shrugging his shoulders as well, "but it gets a little weird. It's normal, the way you feel, Bones. You may seem like a mutant genius anthropologist alien from Neptune, but, underneath it all, you're still human."

"Just because I'm rational and think with my mind instead of my metaphorical heart, it does not mean that I'm a mutant, alien, genius from Mars," she had to smile at how irrational and silly he could be.

"Neptune," he corrected her, when she misquoted him.

"Either way, it's the same general concept," Brennan rolled her eyes playfully, looking up to see the charming half smile, the one that got her every time, present on his face, "you never answered the question I asked you a few days ago."

"Which one?"

"Why are you nice to me?"

"I did answer that question. I said, because I like you."

"That's not a legitimate response. I'm more looking for the reasons why you like me to begin with. Why you tolerate things I do when many other people wouldn't."

"I don't know why. I guess I'm just a sucker for sexy squints."

"I'm serious, Booth."

Brennan looked at him seriously, studying the look of confusion in his eyes.

"Honestly?" Booth asked, continuing before he got a response, "because the good outweighs the bad when it comes to you. Sure, you do things that annoy the crap out of me, and make me just want to put myself out of my misery, but the good things you do make up for those times. If there's a million things I can't stand about you, there's a million and one that I love about you."

"I make you suicidal?" Brennan asked, her only response to that entire little speech.

Booth sucked in a long breath, letting it out slowly.

"No, Bones, I was just making a point," he told her, "did you even listen to the rest? I was trying to be charming there."

"Yes, I listened, and it was very sweet," she nodded in approval, "you're very sweet."

"Hey, thanks, Bones," Booth smiled proudly, looking down at their almost empty plates before looking back to Brennan, "ready to get going?"

"Yeah," Brennan responded, reaching into the pocket of her coat to get money, before she cursed under her breath and stood up, "I left my wallet in the car. I'm going to go get it."

"Woah, slow down there, Speed Racer," he said, when she went to make a break for the door, "are you crazy? You're not going outside alone."

"Booth," Brennan complained, her shoulders slumping dramatically, "your SUV is only a short distance away. I think I can handle it."

"Bones," he sighed, really not feeling comfortable quite yet to let her go to the truck alone, especially when it was dark outside.

"I'm not going to let you treat me like some sort of invalid, Booth," her tone was slightly more stern, "I am perfectly capable of walking outside."

Booth could tell that this was an argument he was never going to win. Only taking a deep breath, he reached into his pocket and took out the keys, plopping them in the palm of her hand.

"Thank you," Brennan smiled, gratefully, before opening the door, making her way to the door, opening it and taking a swift step into the cold air of the night.

It was quiet outside, only the faint sound of cars driving by audible along with the wind that was ripping restlessly through the bare trees. Brennan focused on the sound of her heels clicking against the pavement when she walked, the sounds creating a steady rhythm with her pace. Click, click, click, click. When she reached the truck, she unlocked it and opened the passenger's side door, reaching in to grab her wallet and closing the door behind her, making sure to lock the doors again before she started to walk back to the diner. Her heels started up in a rhythm again, but she didn't get far before she heard a voice behind her.

"Doctor Brennan," the voice was low, and had a tiny twinge of a Spanish accent behind it, causing her to stop, but not turn around, "fancy meeting you here."

"Is there something I can do for you?" Brennan asked, keeping her tone steady, but trying not to sound too intimidating, just incase it was someone harmless, as she slowly turned to face the unfamiliar person behind her.

"Your pictures don't do you any justice," he commented, not answering her question.

What picture was he talking about? Was he just a fan of her book? She _did_ have her picture on the back of her books.

"Do you need something?" She tried again, not responding to his comment.

"I do need something," the man confirmed, shaking his head afterwards, "you look so harmless, Doctor Brennan, but you really know how to stir up trouble, don't you?"

"What do you need?" She asked, her tone sharp, as she glared at the man.

"I need you, Doctor," he told her, "it's a shame, it really is. You're such a pretty woman. If you weren't so much trouble, maybe I'd ask you out to dinner, but, my job isn't to romance you. I'm going to take it easy on you, Doctor. Maybe I'll just kill you myself. Trust me, it will be much, much, less painful if I kill you then if I bring you back to the Boss. He'll make it slow, torturous, painful, but me? I'll make it quick. He'll be mad that he didn't get to do it himself, but ultimately, he'll just be happy that you're dead."

Brennan felt almost frozen in shock, until the man touched her arm. Without thinking, she drew back her arm to deliver him a painful elbow in the rib cage, only to regret it when he spun her around by the arm and pulled her tight so her back was against his chest, his arm around her neck, clenching tightly, to the point where she couldn't fill her lungs anymore.

"Bad move, princess," the man told her, "you just lost your chance at a painless death."

Brennan wanted to yell for help, but the words wouldn't get passed her chest, the man's arm cutting off the sounds before they could leave her lungs. She tried to gasp for breath, but her airway passage was cut off by the choke hold she was in.

"Where's your big FBI buddy?" He asked, teasingly, "Shouldn't he be out here trying to save you?"

Brennan could feel herself slipping out of consciousness, the sound of the man's voice sounding more and more muffled the further away she slipped. She practically prayed to the God that she didn't believe in that she'd hear the shot of Booth's gun and be released from this vice grip, but it never happened. The last thing she remembered was the sound of the man holding her's voice, sounding underwater, as he spoke to her.

"Sweet dreams, Doctor Brennan."

* * *

A few minutes had passed, and Booth glanced impatiently at his watch, wondering what was taking Brennan so long. She was only supposed to be getting her wallet and coming right back, but it was taking an awfully long time. With a small huff, he stood up and put his black casual jacket back over his shoulders, stepping outside the door of the diner. After walking a little ways, he realized he still hadn't seen any sign of Brennan.

"Bones?" he called out, getting increasingly more worried, the closer to the car he got, "hey, Bones, you out here?"

He stopped when he saw something familiar on the ground a couple feet in front of him.

_God, please tell me this isn't what I think it is._

He bent down to pick up the small, glittering object, his jaw clenching nervously when he held it up to the moonlight, and confirmed his suspicion that it was, in fact, Brennan's dolphin earing. Holding the earing between his thumb and index finger, he stood back up, taking only one step before hearing something crack under his shoe. When he lifted his foot to examine the now broken object, he saw that it was the little remote hooked onto his keys. He picked up the broken remote, not even able to feel relieved when his keys still dangled from it. At the moment, the SUV wasn't important. The fact that Brennan was no where to be seen, and her earing was lying on the floor, was what was concerning him right then.

"Bones?" He called out again, reaching the car only a few seconds after he found the two items she'd left behind, "Bones? Where the hell are you?"

A small piece of paper jammed into his windshield wipers caught his attention, as he quickly grabbed it and jerked it out of where it was being held in place, his eyes scanning the words over and over as everything seemed to click in his mind, confirming the one and only fear that he was having right then. Just that note sent him into a panic.

_**Missing someone Agent Booth?**_


	47. Bones Is Gone

**A/N: Thank you all for the feedback through the entire story. =]**

**I actually got two chapters done today, since this is one of those chapters that kind of just wrote itself. So enjoy? =]**

Chapter Forty-Seven

"Bones Is Gone"

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

It was cold, and it smelled like a combination of wet dog and musty towels in the air, the only sound audible being water dripping from some sort of unknown source. Brennan winced at the rancid smell when she finally came to, her eyes opening slowly, only to reveal a dark, dirty basement, or cellar, noticing, only then, that her hands were bound together in front of her. She wasn't sure where she was, but wherever it was, she knew it couldn't have been anywhere good. Between the smell, and the constant sound of water dripping from, what she assumed to be, a busted pipe, she figured that she was in a basement in some sort of old, abandon, run down, house that was no longer suitable for people to live in. Whoever took her here must have either, A, been a squatter, or B, was just hiding her there so no one else could find her.

Her head was pounding, but she barely noticed, her fear and adrenaline dulling the pain. She sat up from where she was laying on her side on the cold, dirty, ground, feeling a sharp pain shoot through her arm and abdomen when she did.

"Shit," she hissed through clenched teeth, clutching onto her arm as she rested her back against the wall, closing her eyes to try and dull the pain that was coursing through her body.

Her chest rose and fell with the nervous breaths she was taking, as she opened her eyes to glance back around the cellar, searching for some sort of escape route, but failing to find one. The only way she'd be able to get out was if she somehow, with all her injuries, got up the long flight of stairs to the door that lead into the main house. Bracing herself for the pain she knew was coming, she shifted onto her knees, attempting to get onto her feet, only to yelp in pain when she was almost standing halfway up, a sharp pain tearing through her thigh.

"Dammit," she mumbled, sinking back to the floor, before shifting onto her hands and knees, realizing that crawling was the only option she had left, "dammit, dammit, dammit."

She moved a little, relieved when she was able to crawl. The movements were slow as she pulled herself along, slowly but surely inching towards the staircase. Brennan only stopped and quickly laid back down on her side when the door at the top of the steps opened and shut quickly, and the two men came down the stairs, one after the other, glancing at the doctor in disgust.

"Excellent work, Garcia," Brennan recognized the voice of Miguel Villeda when he praised the man whom she remembered from when she was kidnaped, "I thought Agent Booth would be much more of a barrier. Too bad he got careless. I was enjoying the chase."

Villeda looked down at Brennan and shook his head when he saw the way she was curled up on her side. He was completely unaware that she was only faking not being able to move, and had no idea that she'd been crawling towards the stairs only seconds prior.

"Pathetic," he scoffed, looking down at Brennan with a wicked glare.

Brennan's anger sparked at the sound of the word. Nobody called Temperance Brennan pathetic. Without thinking her actions over, she turned her head and spit on the man's shoe, only receiving a laugh in response as she sat back up against the wall.

"Is that the best you have, Doctor Brennan?" He asked, kneeling down so they were at eye level, "Your spit is probably one of the cleaner things that have been on this shoe."

"That doesn't surprise me," Brennan was surprised by the harshness of her own voice.

"There's the attitude you showed me back in that FBI building," he smiled proudly, almost as if she were his student, "remember that? When you slapped me?"

"Of course," Brennan assured him, "it was very satisfying."

"I'm glad you were satisfied when it happened, because when we keep you down here, and let you starve to death, or maybe let you die of some kind of infection that slowly, but painfully spreads through your body, you're going to regret it more than you've ever regretted anything."

"Foolish mistake," Brennan told him, masking the fear in her voice, "if you were logical, such as I am, you would know to kill me quickly and get it over with. If you kill me in a way that takes place over a long period of time, Booth will eventually find me, and get me out of here before I die. And then, you'll be known as a fool, because I'll still be alive, and, if you don't manage to escape before he empties fire in this place, you'll be the one who dies."

Villeda only laughed again, rolling his eyes at Brennan's scenario.

"Look," he spoke to the man standing off to the side of him, turning his head to look at him, "she still thinks her FBI hero is going to come save her," he turned his attention back to Brennan, touching her cheek with a cold, dirty, hand, "you're hope is cute, Doctor," Brennan winced away from his calloused hand in disgust, wishing that her hands were untied, so she could just bash him across the face, "but we're not that stupid. We made sure to take care of that barrier before we even took you down here."

Brennan wasn't exactly sure what he was talking about at first, but when it finally processed, she felt her heart rate increase.

"How long was I unconscious for?" She asked, trying to control the panic that was becoming obvious in her voice.

"Long enough," Villeda smirked in response, his hand touching her arm now, "Mr. Garcia here waited for Agent Booth, knowing he was going to come out and look for you. You know, I really expected him to put up more of a fight."

"What are you talking about?" Brennan growled.

"Your beloved Agent Booth," Villeda reminded her, "getting rid of him was almost too easy. Just one shot to the back of the head was all it took. We actually played with the idea of bringing him down here with you, torturing him by letting him watch us kill you, but then we decided it would be much more enjoyable to watch you suffer, rather than him."

"You're bluffing," Brennan accused, not buying into their lie.

Villeda and Garcia exchanged glances before Villeda looked back into Brennan's eyes, his gaze seeming to pierce her like daggers.

"Mr. Garcia still has the body in his car, if you'd like to see it before he puts it in the ground, right next to all of the other people who stuck their noses into our business."

"I still don't believe you," she said, even though her faith was falling slightly.

"Very well then," Villeda stood up straight, turning to look at Garcia, "Garcia," he barked, "take the lovely doctor here up to say goodbye to Mr. FBI."

Without any hesitation, Garcia grabbed her arms and pulled her into a standing position, causing her to yelp at the pain. Just then, she knew that this wasn't a bluff. If it was, they wouldn't have taken it as far as getting ready to bring her to see the body. If she got up the stairs, she'd have to look at Booth's dead body. Stare into the hollow, dead, eyes of her partner, her best friend, her lover, and she wouldn't be able to handle it.

"No!" She shouted, almost against her will, barely aware that she was twisting and thrashing in an attempt to get the man dragging her by the arms to let go, "No! No! Please! I don't-I don't..."

She couldn't finish the sentence before she felt tears streaking subconsciously down her cheeks, pulling in a sharp breath that made her lungs ache, only to be let out in a sob.

"Let her go," Villeda said with a wave of his hand, causing Garcia to drop her arms. Brennan hardly noticed the new freedom she had, since her mind was in too much of a fog to think clearly about anything. "Go," he demanded, pointing to the far side of the immense basement, "put her over there."

Garcia did as he was told, placing his hands on her back to push her less than gently towards the far side of the basement, able to hear Villeda following not far behind.

"You still think you're going to make it out of here alive, Doctor Brennan?" Villeda asked, his voice rough and wicked when he spoke to her, only receiving a helpless whimper in response to his question, "without Mr. FBI alive to save you, you have nobody. Nobody's going to find you. Nobody's going to help you. You're going to rot down here."

Brennan felt her knees buckle under her, and she allowed herself to collapse back to the floor, curling back up on her side when the cement ground made impact with the injuries on her rib cage. She whimpered pathetically in pain, before sliding her knees up carefully to almost meet her chest, the rope on her hands preventing her from holding them there.

"You're going to suffer, Doctor Brennan," he told her, "while you're slowly and painfully dying yourself, you're going to have to think about your FBI friend, cold and dead in the ground where he belongs. If he really cared about you, he wouldn't have let you go out alone. He would have stayed with you. If he did, you wouldn't be down here, and he would still be alive."

The words cut Brennan like a knife, feeling a sharp pain in her chest. She knew she wasn't being rational. Death was inevitable. But when she actually heard the words, knew that Booth was dead, that he'd never flash her a charming smile, or crack a lame joke again, she felt like she was sinking into a pit that she would never be able to claw her way out of.

"Booth," she cried, pathetically, a sob escaping her throat as the tears came faster, almost as if the one syllable word had opened the floodgate, "Booth."

"Pathetic," Villeda spat, repeating his words from the beginning of their encounter as he shook his head in pure disgust, "Garcia, untie her hands. I don't think she's going anywhere anytime soon. Then go dump that body before it makes my car smell."

Again, Garcia obeyed orders and pulled the rope from Brennan's hands, allowing her to grab her knees and pull them tight against her chest. After she was settled in her balled up position, Villeda spit on the floor next to her, returning the gesture she gave to him, before starting up the stairs. Brennan only knew they were leaving the basement when she heard Villeda's voice on the top of the staircase.

"Close and lock the door behind you too," he barked at Garcia, who was following a few paces behind him, "I don't want to listen to her wail 'Booth' all night. It might keep me up."

She heard the door shut, and the lock click closed. Normally she would have cursed that they locked off her last way out of the dark cellar, but, at the moment, she didn't care. She didn't care if they came down and tortured her everyday, or if they just left her down there to die. The only thing her mind could focus on was the fact that she'd lost Booth. Even if she did get out, she'd be a wreck. So what did it matter? Maybe death would welcome her with open arms. Brennan, almost subconsciously, reached into her button down blouse and pulled out the St. Christopher medal that dangled around her neck, closing it tight in her palm as she cried. Her words, her helpless cries, echoed off the walls of the basement, but they seemed to stay there, almost as if they were telling her that no one could hear her pleas.

"Booth," she cried, the sound of her loud wails filling the room around her as she clutched onto the St. Christopher medal like it was her lifeline, "Booth!"

* * *

The dolphin earing dangled between Booth's thumb and index finger as he held it up in the light of the sun streaming through the window in his office. The gold earing seemed to twinkle, and he had to wonder if it was mocking him, telling him that he failed, that he let Brennan down by not being there to protect her. With a huff, he put the earing back down on his desk, running his hands through his hair in frustration. It had been 72 hours, and finally, the FBI started an official search for Doctor Temperance Brennan. Booth had the team at the Jeffersonian working day and night, looking for any sort of evidence, first on the earing, now on the note that was left on his car. A chill ran down his spine when he thought about that night.

_Shoving the note into his pocket, along with the little dolphin earing, Booth practically sprinted back into the diner, pushing past people in order to reach Sully's table._

"_Hey, man, you alright?" Sully asked, when Booth reached he and Claudia's table with a distressed expression, "You look a little flustered."_

_Without responding, he pulled the crumpled note out of his pocket, handing it to his fellow FBI agent, who's playful expression faded into one of distress as well when he saw the words, and the handwriting that looked familiar to him._

"_Bones is gone," Booth's voice was low, sounding as if he could, at any second, snap, and just start shooting, "I-I let her go to the car by herself. It was only a few feet away."_

"_Booth! You idiot!" The sound of silverware clinking when Sully's fist slammed into the table made Claudia jump, recoiling in fear, "You let her go out alone? What the hell were you thinking? You said you wouldn't let her out of your sight. You promised you'd protect her!"_

Booth shuddered just as hard at the memory, able to hear the words, in Sully's voice, so clearly, that he wondered if he was actually back in his office, repeating the same thing he'd told him that night. He did promise to protect her, and he broke that promise. If something bad happened to Bones, it was his fault.

At that moment, he wanted one thing, and one thing only. To gamble. He wanted the thrill of winning, the disappointment of defeat. He wanted to be in the casino, able to hear the slot machines pinging, able to smell the scents of cigarette smoke and alcohol. But he knew he couldn't. He couldn't let himself slip back into that darkness, especially not when he needed to find Brennan. She wouldn't want him to go back to gambling either.

But helping find Brennan wasn't an option for him. He was still livid with Deputy Director Cullen about his decision to declare that Booth was not a suitable agent to search for the missing doctor, due to the emotional bond they had with one another.

"_Sir, not to be disrespectful, but, you're making a terrible choice by not allowing me to help Agent Sullivan find my partner," Booth told his boss, putting it as nicely as he could, considering all the emotions he was feeling at that particular moment._

"_Booth, this case is personal for you," Cullen kept his tone sharp, indicating that he wasn't screwing around, "and I know how you get. You'll lose your composure. You'll do something rash, based on your emotions. Just, stay out of this one. We'll find Doctor Brennan, Booth. Agent Sullivan is great at his job."_

"Booth," the sound of Sully's voice, mixed with the sound of his door opening pulled him out of his trance.

Booth sat up straight again, smoothing out his tie. The sight of Sully gave him hope. He knew Sully wouldn't be coming to strike up conversation, so maybe he'd found something out about where Brennan was, and was coming to tell him.

"Did you find something?" Booth tried his best to keep his voice even, and his hopes down.

"No, still nothing," Sully responded, his voice sounding slightly disappointed, as Booth's heart felt like it dropped back into his stomach, "but there's someone here. I tried to tell him he couldn't just barge in here, but he won't listen to me. He refuses to see anyone but you."

Before Booth could ask who it was, he saw Max Keenan barreling through the Hoover building like he owned it, pushing past Sully to step fully into Booth's office.

"Sir," Sully drew his gun in caution, since he wasn't sure who Max was, or why he was just storming into Booth's office, "I'm going to have to ask you to step outside, or I'll have to place you under arrest."

"Arrest?" Max snorted, "for what?"

"Assault of a Federal Agent," Sully said, simply, gun in hand.

Max held his hands up innocently, but Sully kept his gun drawn.

"I didn't assault anyone," Max swore, glancing at Booth, silently asking for help.

"Sul, it's fine," Booth assured him, as Sully put his gun back in it's holster with the reassurance from Booth, "Max here is Bones' dad."

"Oh," Sully sounded legitimately shocked, "I apologize, Mr. Brennan."

"Keenan," Max corrected him, "can you give me a minute alone with Booth?"

Sully just nodded and stepped out of the office, closing the door behind him once he left, leaving Max and Booth alone in the privacy of his office.

"Booth," Max's voice was much less harsh once they were alone, "it's true isn't it?"

"What is?" Booth asked.

"Tempe. She's really missing."

"I'm sorry, Max. They're looking."

"They? Well how come you're not helping? You're the only man Tempe trusts."

"Max, I want to look for Bones, I really do," Booth's voice was low, as he assured the man of how much he wanted to find his daughter, "my boss isn't letting me. But I have the squint squad working on it too, even though I wasn't supposed to tell them about it yet. They've known since the first night she went missing, and they've been busting their asses looking."

"You're a good man, Booth," Max said, his shoulders relaxing slightly, even though he still looked extremely tense, "I know your little team of scientists will find Tempe. And I know she's not going to give up hope when it comes to you. I see the way she looks at you. It's the way she used to look at me when I'd lift her onto my shoulders. The way she looked at Russ when he was the 'cool' kid in school. I'd know that look anywhere. It's admiration. She believes in you."

"Thank you, Mr. Keenan," Booth said, unsure of how to respond to that.

"Don't thank me for telling you the truth," Max said, "now, you better hope I'm not the one that finds her, because, if I do, I'm killing the bastard that took her."

"Max," Booth warned, "I've arrested you before, and I'll do it again."

"Oh, right. Sometimes I forget you're a cop," Max gave him a charming half smile, the best he could muster up at the moment, before he opened the heavy door of Booth's office, only getting halfway out before he turned back to Booth, "oh, and Booth?"

"Yeah?"

"Just to fill you in, I know you're sleeping with my daughter."

"I-"

"Don't deny it, I know what I know," Max cut him off, "she glows when she talks about you."

"Bones talks about me?" Booth asked, sincerely surprised.

"You're all she talks about," Max told him, honestly, "I mean, other than skeletons, of course. Skeletons and Booth. All she needs to be happy."

Max's words caused Booth to half smile for the first time in three days.

"Max?" Booth asked, when he turned to leave his office again, speaking once he turned his head to look at him once more, "thank you."

Max simply nodded, knowing exactly what he was being thanked for, before he stepped out of the office, shutting the door behind him. Booth knew that he could lose his job by helping Sully find Brennan, but that didn't matter to him at that moment. He'd give up his job to save Bones, because she believed in him, and he wasn't about to let her down. Not again.


	48. What The Hell Is Taking So Long?

A/N: Another chapter of drama. Sorry guys. =] But fear not, our heroes will be reunited soon. And again, thanks to everyone who's reading this. =]

**And by the way, who else loved the premiere? I honestly *SPOILER! SPOILER! SPOILER!* was a little disappointed by the reunion. I wanted them to at least have a long, romantic hug, not just a one arm thing, but hey, these things take time. I'm also really hoping they're not going to make Angela lose the baby, because, for some reason, I foresee it taking that route. *END OF SPOILERS* so yeah, but other than that, I loved it 3**

Chapter Forty-Eight:

"What The Hell Is Taking So Long?"

Brennan knew she'd been down in the basement for quite some time, but she wasn't entirely sure of how long it had actually been. It was always dark, freezing cold, and she had no watch or cell phone, so she had no way of knowing how much time had passed. The only indication she had was when one, or both, of the two men would come down to either torture her, or give her food. There was no pattern between the two, so she wasn't sure how to feel when she heard the door on the top of the stairs open each time it did.

_It was a few hours after the two men had left her down there after they broke the news to her about Booth, that she heard the door finally open again. It felt like she'd been down there, sobbing for hours by herself, so when the door opened, she prayed that it was someone coming to save her, even though she knew that the chances were slim. She felt a tall man hovering over her, but she only remained laying on her side, her eyes focused on the concrete wall in front of her._

"_You still haven't moved?" The same voice from the parking lot at the diner filled the silent room, making anger rise in the doctor's chest, "Come on now, Doctor Brennan, you can do much better than that neanderthal FBI agent."_

"_Go to hell," Brennan's voice was low, but sharp, when he spoke about Booth._

"_I'm being completely serious," Garcia said innocently, "you're smart, successful, well off, yet, you chose to be with an idiot, who lives in a little apartment and barely makes enough money to support himself and his kid. But you saw past all of that, didn't you?"_

"_Shut up," Brennan growled, tears stinging her eyes. _

"_Yes, you did," Garcia answered for her, "because it was more than just hot sex. You loved him. You're thinking about him right now. You're always thinking about him. It's all that's on your mind. Tell me, Doctor Brennan. Tell me how he touched you. Tell me how he kissed you, and made love to you. Describe it to me."_

"_No," Brennan hissed at his perverted request._

_There wasn't a chance in hell that she was going to describe she and Booth's love making to this low life pervert. The one who took him from her. The one who made it set in stone that she would never be able to experience it again, since she knew for a fact, even if she did make it out of there alive, she would never be able to fall in love with anyone the way she had with Booth. It was painful to think about the going the rest of her life with a man who was second best. Maybe she'd never be monogamous now. Maybe she'd spend forever just satisfying biological urges with past partners, as opposed to breaking the laws of physics with someone she loved. Maybe she was just never meant to be happy. _

"_You're very difficult," he told her, his voice low and dark._

"_I don't care."_

"_You're going to grow to care, Doctor Brennan."_

Brennan knew it would piss him off when she didn't obey to his commands, but she had no idea exactly how much. That was the first time he'd hit her, and by the time his rampage was through, she had twice as many bruises as she did when she first awoke on the basement floor. He was strong, and his punches and kicks were painful, but he didn't care how badly he was hurting the fragile woman who was lying limp and helpless on her side, her hand never letting go of the St. Christopher medal as she took the abuse like it was nothing, biting her lip to hold in the yelps and whimpers of pain that rose in her chest. The attack was short lived, but, to Brennan, it felt like an eternity. If she was going to have to live like this, in a dirty cellar being physically abused everyday, then death didn't seem like such a bad deal. Maybe Booth got the good end of the stick on this one. At least his death was quick and painless.

_Brennan was still recovering from the attack when she heard the door open again. She whimpered and sat up, despite the pain present in her rib cage, and slid back into a corner, feeling weak and helpless as she attempted to hide from the man coming down the stairs. She heard his footsteps nearing her, but she was trapped, as far back in the corner as she could get. The man stood in front of her, looking down at the woman who was inched into the dirty, spider web infested, corner of the basement, trembling like a scared puppy, and just laughed bitterly. _

"_You're getting what you deserve, Doctor," it was Villeda's voice to speak now, as he leaned down to place a chipped glass cup filled with tap water and slice of stale bread on the dirty ground, "here's dinner. Enjoy." _

_After she heard the man go back upstairs, she hesitantly picked up the bread, and nipped on the corner, wincing at the foul taste that filled her mouth. She attempted to wash it down with the water, but it tasted equally as bad. The food was repulsive, but she didn't have any other options at that point. It was either eat what they gave to her, or eat nothing. _

After those two times, she never knew when she was about to get her dose of abuse, or her food for the half a day. She'd calculated it in her head, and figured they gave her two meals a day. The abuse, however, was random. She figured they must have just beat her whenever they felt like it, or when they were just bored. Since they seemed to enjoy it when she screamed in pain, she always tried her best not to show that they were hurting her, but, sometimes, it would just get to be too much, and the sounds would escape her throat, bringing them great satisfaction. It was like a game to them. They liked to see how much time it took before she yelped in pain, or screamed in agony.

Despite the fact that they seemed to thoroughly enjoy torturing her, it seemed to annoy them when she'd cry over Booth. They could always tell the difference whether she was crying in pain or crying in grief. When she cried in pain, it was sharp and piercing. But when she mourned the death of Booth, it was more haunting and drawn out, her sobs sounding deeper and her cries sounding more desperate than pained. Usually when the sudden wave of grief would crash over her, it would start with a hiccup, that progressed into deep, sobbing, breaths, usually followed by a long and drawn out hysterical moan of her partner's surname.

After a few beatings, she'd learned how to block it out. When she'd feel a forceful blow to her side, her eyes would lock on to the wall, and her mind would just shut down. Sometimes, she really thought that she'd fallen asleep, but she knew that wasn't the case. What she thought about in her trances varied. Sometimes it was childhood memories, such as ones of she, Russ, her mother, and her father, at Disney World, and sometimes it was memories of she and her friends. Most of the time, though, it was memories of her late partner. The memories were so vivid, sometimes, that they would scare her. She could practically feel his breath on her neck, smell the cologne and mint chewing gum mixed with his uniquely Booth scent, hear his voice in her ear. The hallucinations lulled her into serenity sometimes, not allowing her to come out of her trance until all the blows to her body ceased, and the men returned upstairs.

Sleep was limited and uncomfortable, mostly filled with nightmares when she finally did drift off. But she didn't need sleep. Sleep was just a way to pass the time down there. She barely spoke anymore either, not because she didn't want to, but she felt as if she couldn't. When the men would ask her things, she would remain silent, her mind shutting down the way it did when she was being hit.

It was only one day, after she woke up from a short slumber, that she realized why she couldn't let herself die in that old house. If she died, Mara Muerte would be getting what they wanted. They'd never be put to justice. But, if she lived, and somehow managed to escape, her side of the story would be heard. Her side, and Booth's side. She wouldn't let Booth's death be a mystery, that somehow got pushed off to the side as a cold case when there was no evidence. She'd get justice for her partner, and get him a proper funeral, one that he would have wanted. Not if, but when she got out of there.

* * *

_"The whale will be returned to it's natural habitat shortly," the newscaster sounded peppy when she spoke about the beached whale, "back to you, Margaret."_

_"In other news, recently reported missing is world renowned forensic anthropologist and best selling author, Doctor Temperance Brennan. Brennan helps the FBI to identify bodies at the Jeffersonian institute, was last seen two nights ago and the Royal Diner in Washington D.C., and has not been heard from since. Reporters asked FBI Special Agent Tim Sullivan, a friend and co-worker of the doctor, if they think the disappearance has anything to do with her involvement in any FBI cases, but both he, and Doctor Camille Saroyan of the Jeffersonian, refused to comment on the matter. If you know anything about the abduction of Miss Brennan, please don't hesitate to call your local police."_

Booth clicked off the small radio in his office once he was sure that word got out about Brennan's disappearance, and put his head back in his hands, letting out a long breath. He couldn't stop his mind from going to the worst possible scenarios when he wondered about where they took her, what they were doing to her. Had they killed her already? Or were they going to take their time? Were they beating her? Hurting her? Violating her? Just the thought of it caused him to clench his fists in anger. Unable to bear just waiting anymore, Booth pushed off of his desk and stood up, storming out of the Hoover building to go to the Jeffersonian.

When he reached the lab, he made sure all the 'squints' knew he was there, making his presence known by storming angrily through the lab until he found Hodgins, who was at his station, staring at the a piece of the note under his microscope.

"Hodgins," Booth clapped loudly next to his ear, causing him to jerk up and glare at the agent standing over his shoulder, "what did you find?"

"Nothing," Hodgins said, keeping his tone flat, since he was trying to be understanding, "I haven't found anything yet. If I did, I would have called."

"Well what the hell is taking so long?" Booth demanded, his voice echoing through the lab, causing a few heads to turn in his direction, "I gave you this stupid piece of paper two days ago! What have you been doing for the past forty eight hours?"

"Booth," Hodgins' tone was warning, but low, "I want to find Doctor Brennan too, but I don't think anything on this piece of paper is going to be of use. I've looked over it a hundred times, and-"

"Well then look over it a hundred and one times," Booth cut him off, his tone harsh, "and don't stop looking until Bones is back in this lab, do you hear me?"

Hodgins used every ounce of his self control not to stand up and deck the screaming FBI agent across the face, only to be assisted when Cam made her way hastily over to Hodgins' station, once she heard yelling in an all too familiar voice.

"Seeley," Cam's voice was sharp as her heels clicked hastily across the tile floor and to Hodgins' station, "Hodgins is trying his best here. We're all trying. I understand you're stressed, and mad, but do not come in here and harass my team."

"I'm not mad," Booth said flatly, disliking her choice in words, "I just want to find Bones. I need to know that she's okay."

"You're mad, Seeley," Cam assured him, "you're mad at Cullen for not letting you work on this case. You're mad at Mara Muerte for taking her, but most importantly, you're mad at yourself, because you feel like this is your fault, and it's not."

"I'm not mad," Booth responded simply, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants.

"Go home, Seeley," Cam encouraged him, her tone softening, "get some rest."

"How am I supposed to 'rest' knowing that someone has my partner?" He asked, "Bones is my partner, Camille, and, I was supposed to be protecting her. I wasn't. Now the least I can do is find her. I need to make up for my mistake, and I'm not going to do anything until Bones is back here, in this lab."

"Well, I'm not letting you stay here," Cam crossed her arms over her chest, "I'm not going to let you harass Hodgins, and everyone else, because you're angry at yourself. If you're not going to go home, just go somewhere else."

"Are you kicking me out?" Booth asked, honestly surprised and taken back that Cam would kick him out of the lab under the circumstances.

"Yes, but it's for your own good," she assured him, "I've known you for too long, Seeley, and I know how you get. If you stay here, and frustrate yourself, you're going to do something."

"Why does nobody think I can control my emotions?"

"Because sometimes, you can't. Especially when it comes to saving the day."

"I'm not looking to be Superman, Camille. I just want to get Bones home."

"Standing here isn't going to help. Go home. You haven't slept in days."

Booth couldn't hide the fact that he was exhausted. It was showing all over his face. He hadn't shaved in days, and there were dark circles under his eyes, indicating that he had been running a long time on no sleep. It had been over twenty four hours since he last slept, and he was, without a doubt, feeling the side effects. When he turned to walk out the door, he stopped, turning to face Cam once more before he left.

"Camille?"

"Yes?"

Booth paused.

"Call me if you get anything."

Cam nodded and waved him off, watching as he left the lab and went back to his SUV to drive home and get some long awaited sleep.

Booth was in a deep, peaceful, sleep, for only a couple hours, before the sound of his phone ringing jerked him out of his rest. Sleepily, he reached over and felt around his night stand until he found his phone, picking it up and flipping it open.

"Booth," his voice was raspy when he answered the phone.

"_Booth_!" Sully's voice gave him a bit of a jolt, "_I stopped by the Jeffersonian to see if anyone found anything, and Zach said something that reminded me that we didn't try one thing. I'm back at the Hoover now, and I've got the computer set up, so I need somebody to call her cell phone. Does she have it with her_?"

"I doubt the kidnapper let her keep her cell phone," Booth rolled his eyes at Sully's question, "it was in her coat pocket though. If you track down the cell tower you might be able to get a general area."

"_Alright, Johnson's calling now_," there was a pause on the other end of the line, as Booth waited in anticipation for the results of what cell tower was closest to Brennan.

He could hear the faint sound of Brennan's voicemail through the phone, the sound of her voice, sweet and innocent, making his chest ache.

"_Booth_?" Sully asked, making sure he was still on the phone.

"Yeah? I'm here."

"_I found her. The cell tower she's closest to is in a town right outside little El Salvador_."

Booth didn't relax yet, since even though they knew where her cell phone was, there was still no guarantees that she was still alive. Regardless, he shrugged the comforter off his shoulders and dug through his dresser drawers to grab jeans and the first t-shirt he could find.

"_I'll call you if we find out her exact location_," Sully told him.

"Like hell you will," Booth's voice still sounded slightly sleepy, as he pulled the t-shirt over his head, "I'm coming with you."


	49. It's Over, Bones

**A/N: Just a huge thanks to the two readers who informed me that I accidently reposted the last chapter. I'm such a spazz that I was in a rush to get out of the house and didn't even notice. xD I really appreciate the heads up though, because I probably would have never noticed it on my own.**

**So the our heroes are finally reunited. But the drama isn't over yet (which makes the title of this chapter kind of ironic xD), so stay tuned.**

**And, as always, thank you all for your feedback. **

Chapter Forty-Nine:

"It's Over, Bones"

Sully's SUV bumped along the rough and silent roads of Little El Salvador, as he and Booth drove in silence. Booth tapped his fingers impatiently against the dashboard on the passenger's side, wishing he could just flick the siren on, bust into all the houses, until they found the one Brennan was in, and start shooting. If he'd told Sweets that, he would have been concerned, and asked if he had violent fantasies like that often. But Booth had convinced himself that what he'd been feeling the past few days, the anger at the world, and the just wanting to shoot everything and everyone, was normal, due to the fact that Brennan was missing.

"How are we going to find the one house that she's in out of all of these?" Booth asked, finally breaking the silence between him and his former good friend.

"I have no idea," Sully said honestly, with a shake of his head, "listen, Booth. I could lose my job by bringing you with me. Cullen specifically told me to keep you away," Sully had to laugh a little, "obviously, he doesn't know you very well if he thinks anyone would be able to keep you out of anything. Especially when it comes to Brennan."

"Yeah, Bones has been my partner for a few years, she's my best friend," Booth shrugged, playing it off as if partner and best friends were strictly all they were, "Sul, thanks. Honestly. I know we're not really friends, at all, but you've been pretty cool to me through this, and I appreciate it."

"You'd die for your partner," Sully was the one to shrug this time, "that's respectable." Booth half smiled gratefully before he continued, "and I'm not going to leave Tempe with some psychopaths because I'm not your biggest fan. I'm more doing this for her," another short pause came from him, "I still have feelings for her, but she moved on, and I'm trying to too. But, being completely honest, I'd give anything to have her back in my arms."

Booth glanced at him, tearing his gaze from the outside scenery. When he didn't respond to Sully's words, he decided to speak again.

"Do you think I have a chance?" Sully asked, "Do you think she'd ever give me a second chance?"

Booth tensed up a little bit, unsure of how to answer his question without giving away the fact that he and Brennan's relationship had escalated quite a bit since he'd been gone, sailing around the world.

"I don't know," Booth responded, trying to mask his annoyance with the man sitting next to him, "that's not really my place to say."

"Because I was thinking about asking her on a date," Sully admitted, as Booth continued to watch out the window, and look for any houses, or old buildings, that looked suspicious, "I regret not staying with her all the time. I shouldn't have sailed around the Carribean. I should have stayed with Tempe. We had a good thing."

"Sully, she might not even be alive," Booth's voice was low when he voiced the possibility, since it was painful to even think about to him, "and if she is, she'll probably need some time to recuperate after this. Being abducted is traumatic."

"I know," Sully admitted, keeping his right hand on the steering wheel as he looked out the windshield to the road ahead of him, "I'm just trying to be optimistic over here. I know it's possible that Brennan's...but I mean-"

Booth stopped paying attention by that point, when something in the darkness caught his eye through the window. Parked outside an abandon looking house was a little white car, that looked all too familiar. It took him a few minutes to figure it out, but it finally hit him, where he knew that car from.

"Pull over," he said, sharply.

"What? Why?" Sully asked, furrowing an eyebrow in confusion.

"That car," Booth's voice was rough, "that was the same car that someone shot at Bones out of. She's there. In that house."

"Booth, I'm sure more than one person has that kind of car. We can't just go barging into people's houses without any solid proof."

"Sully, I'm telling you, she's there," by this point, Sully was pulled over on the side of the road, able to hear the crickets outside the car at one in the morning.

Sully pressed his head against the steering wheel and let out a long sigh.

"You better be right about this," he muttered, reluctantly going to call for backup.

* * *

Brennan woke up coughing, having inhaled some of the dust and dirt off the floor when she took a deep breath. She hated sleeping in this place, because she hated having to wake up, come away from her mind and her dreams, and remember that she was still locked up, being fed minimal amounts of food, and being tortured on a regular basis. After the coughing ceased, she reached up to brush some dirt off of her cheek, her arms aching when she moved them. By this point, most of her muscles ached when she used them, and she was thankful that, at least, she didn't have to move very often in this place. The basement was huge, but it was pitch black, and all looked the same, so she just stayed in one spot, occasionally dragging herself away from the wall and into the center of the floor.

Sitting up straight, Brennan picked up her cup from some time before and sipped on it, only drinking enough to soothe the burning in her throat. As horrible as if sounded, even in her head, she, somewhere inside, wanted to die. As much as she wanted to get justice for Booth, she wasn't sure how much longer she could take this. She would have believed that she'd been down there for a month if someone said it, even though, in reality, it was only about four and a half days. If this went on long enough, she'd just stop eating and drinking. She'd let herself starve to death, or die of dehydration, when she couldn't take the pain anymore.

Brennan was tracing her fingers absent mindedly over some dirt on the floor when she heard heavy footsteps above her. At first, she figured it was just the only two other men who knew she was down there, but then, she realized that it sounded like a lot more than two people clunking on the ceiling above her. She peered up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what was going on. She assumed that maybe Villeda was getting bored with the same old abuse routine, and decided to bring in some more Mara Muerte members to spice things up and join the party. She let out a frustrated breath when she thought about the abuse that was coming her way, only to feel her heart practically stop when she heard the muffled sound of gunshots, and a lot of them too. The sound made her heart nearly pound out of her chest. Did somebody shoot Villeda or Garcia? Or did they shoot someone who came to help her? Frozen in fear, she kept her eyes glued to the ceiling, waiting, and listening closely to what was going on above her.

* * *

"Shit," Sully muttered, clenching his arm as the blood seeped through his fingers.

The gunfire had subsided, and Booth glanced around the room at the damage that had been done, surveying it in less than a second. Sully had been shot in the arm and Garcia had been killed by one of the other agents in the house. As for Villeda, Booth had his chance to kill him, but he decided against it. He wanted him to pay for abducting, and possibly murdering, Brennan. He wanted him to rot in jail, so instead of taking the kill shot that he was perfectly capable of hitting, he only shot him in the shoulder, so he couldn't hold onto his gun, and it fell to the floor. When things calmed down, Sully gestured towards Villeda, who had his teeth clenched and was holding his shoulder the same way Sully was holding his arm.

"Somebody cuff that bastard," he barked when he realized he wouldn't be able to cuff him himself in his condition, causing a few FBI associates to immediatly obey.

Once Villeda was cuffed, and being dragged out of the house, the injured Sully let go of his arm, taking a step further into the house, as opposed to following the few agents out.

"Sul, what the hell are you doing?" Booth asked, "go out there and get to the hospital."

"I'm," he paused to inhale sharply, the pain shooting through his arm, "going to find Brennan while everyone else checks the rest of this place to make sure no one else from Mara Muerte is in here."

"No, I'll find Bones. You need to go see the EMT, now."

Sully wanted to help Booth find Brennan, but he knew that he wouldn't be much help with an arm that couldn't be used. With a grunt, he followed a few of the others outside, leaving Booth and the few that were searching the house alone. The others were looking for any other Mara Muerte members lurking around, but Booth was set on finding Brennan.

"Bones?" He called out, as he turned a few corners, searching every inch of every room, "Bones? Can you hear me?"

None of this was making sense to him. Villeda was there, but where was Brennan? He'd covered the entire first floor, while the rest of the agents searched the higher floors, but there was no sign of her. He was in the kitchen when he found a white door, that looked like a closet, and pulled it open to check for her, surprised to see it was actually a door with steps, leading down to the basement. Drawing his gun, which was complete with the flashlight, he crept carefully down the stairs, making as little noise as possible on the creaky steps.

He kept his gun drawn, just incase there was someone else down there, and pointed it around the room, to shine light on the dark walls, which were covered in a thick layer of dirt, indicating that it had not been in use for a long time. Just when he was starting to think the big basement was empty, Brennan accidently gave away her position, huddled into the corner, with a terrified whimper, quickly clasping her hands over her mouth. Booth knew that whimper anywhere, and he knew, without a doubt, that it was Brennan.

"Temperance?" He kept his voice soft, since by the tone of the noise that came out of her mouth, he could tell she was afraid, "Temperance? Is that you?"

Brennan pressed her palms tighter to her mouth, in an attempt not to let another noise slip through, bu failed miserably when another whimper came through her fingers. Booth followed the sound, making sure to keep his distance, so he didn't freak her out, as he searched for the doctor with his flashlight. Brennan knew that she heard Booth's voice, but she often had her mind replace the husky tone of Garcia and Villeda with Booth's warm, soothing, tone, so she wasn't thinking anything of it at the moment. When Booth's flashlight illuminated a piece of her elbow, he turned it fully so her face was dimly lit. He winced when he saw the cuts and bruises covering her exposed skin, all over her face and down her arms. No wonder she was terrified.

"Bones," he kept his voice soft, kneeling down on the dirt covered concrete floor so they were at eye level, even though they were still a distance away from one another, "Bones, it's me. I'm not gonna hurt you."

Brennan pulled her knees to her chest, shaking violently as she backed as far as she could into the corner, wincing slightly at the light from the flashlight, letting a small, sobbing sound rise from her chest, and escape her lips. Booth felt his chest ache when he saw how afraid she was, even of him, and she sunk into the corner in fear. He knew these guys had really screwed with her head. She was not acting like the Temperance Brennan he knew at all. He went to slide forward a little, show her that she didn't have to be afraid, but stopped when Brennan threw her arms in front of her face, a shout breaking through her throat, almost against her will.

"No, no!" Brennan yelped, shielding her face when 'Booth' went to inch closer to her, "d-don't! Don't-don't touch me!"

"Bones," he whispered, leaning down slightly from where he was kneeling on the floor, "it's me. It's just me. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

Brennan blinked back her tears, her fingers tugging nervously at the fabric of her dress pants. She realized, then, that this man wasn't going to harm her. He was trying to help her. She had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't having some sort of realistic dream, breathing a sigh of relief when she never woke up. The dim light from the flashlight lit up his features, causing her to tremble harder, looking at the man she'd thought was dead for the past, what felt like a month.

"Booth?" She whispered, her voice hoarse.

"Yes," he was silently relieved when she realized it was him, and he was helping her, "yes, Bones. It's just me, baby."

Brennan couldn't even complain about him calling her baby, as she placed her hands on the floor in front of her to crawl to him, ignoring the pain surging throughout her body as she dragged herself along. Just crawling the distance to him seemed to tire out her aching muscles, and she could only find the strength to halfway crawl into his lap when he took a seat to offer the option to her, before she collapsed against him. Very carefully, Booth pulled her up so she was fully in his lap, hearing her whimper in pain when he'd put pressure on her bruises. When she felt the familiar warmth, and smelled that scent that she loved so much, Brennan placed her face on his chest, tears streaking subconsciously down her cheeks. Booth held her close, his fingers grazing her back as he tried to comfort her the best he could without touching her bruised and battered body.

"It's okay," he whispered to the crying anthropologist, who was shaking violently in his arms, in a mixture of the cold and her former fear, "it's over, Bones. I've got you," Brennan remained silent, until Booth spoke again, "is there anyone else down here?"

"No," Brennan sucked in a sobbing breath, only to be hushed by the man holding her, his finger pressing ever so gently against her lips.

"Sh, it's okay," he whispered, not wanting her to keep speaking, since she seemed to be in a state of post traumatic stress, "that's all. I'm going to get you out of here as soon as we get the okay from the people searching the house, okay, Bones?"

Brennan nodded, staying silent for a few minutes as she just listened to Booth whisper words of encouragement in her ear, his body warm against hers. She didn't want to wait any longer to be out of there, and never have to see that place again.

"Booth, I want to leave," her sob was loud compared to his soothing whispers.

"Sh, sh, sh," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair, "I know, baby. Soon."

It was only a couple more minutes before a communicator attached to Booth's holster sounded, getting the all clear from the men above them.

"Come on, Bones, we're gonna get you out of here," he whispered, lifting her into his arms as gently as he could, in an attempt not to put pressure on her bruises, eventually getting her into an almost bridal style position, "tell me if I'm hurting you."

Brennan remained silent as he carried her, slowly and carefully, up the basement steps, emerging outside with her after a long awaited time. The squints were there with the rest of the 'crew' outside the house, incase things didn't go the way they wanted, and Brennan turned out to be dead. Booth saw Angela's eyes well up with tears of relief when he emerged from the house with Brennan, who was coughing, practically choking on the breath of fresh air that filled her lungs. The rest of them smiled and looked equally as relieved, Hodgins mouthing an 'oh my God', Zach nodding in approval, and Cam clasping her hands over her heart. Brennan felt slightly overwhelmed by the crowd, just clinging onto Booth until he set her down on the back of an ambulance truck to steady her.

"Can somebody get me a blanket and a bottle of water?" He yelled out to the surrounding people, standing in front of the trembling woman, blocking the rest of the people, and the scene from her sight, allowing her to just focus on him.

When he draped the blanket around her shoulders, Booth wanted to lean down and kiss the cuts that were on her face, but refrained, since there were people around. He hated keeping their relationship a secret, especially at times like this.

"Here," he unscrewed the top of the water, handing it to her, so she could hold it between her trembling fingers, "you need to drink."

Brennan silently agreed, pressing the bottle to her lips. The first drop of water that touched her tongue tasted so sweet and rich, like it was the best thing she'd ever tasted. She went to tip the bottle back, suck it down in only a few seconds, until she felt Booth's hand over hers.

"Slow," he reminded her, his words urging her to tip it back down and sip slowly at it, regardless of how much she wanted to just inhale the entire bottle.

Angela pushed through the crowd to get to her friend, tears streaking down her face as she looked at the damaged woman sitting on the back of the ambulance.

"Sweetie," she breathed, "thank God."

Brennan wasn't sure why, but she felt her mind shut down the second Angela spoke to her, the way it would when she was being beaten. She knew Angela was her best friend, but it was almost as if her body was trying to argue with her, and wouldn't allow her to respond to the woman, who seemed so happy to see her.

"Booth," Brennan whimpered, her fingers toying with the bottom of his black t-shirt.

"I'm right here," he promised, "Angela wants to talk to you."

Brennan shook her head slowly, as Booth looked at Angela apologetically.

"She's still trying to adjust," he told Angela, hoping that this incident wouldn't hurt her feelings, "give her a little while. It took her a while with me too."

"No, I get it," Angela promised, "she's just-"

Angela was cut off when the EMT came to examine his new patient.

"Can you tell me what parts of your body hurt the most, Doctor Brennan?" He asked.

Brennan tugged at the bottom of Booth's shirt, silent.

"Bones?" Booth tried. She peered up from where her gaze was on the floor, in response to his voice. "Are you okay?"

"Mhm," Brennan responded, nodding slowly.

"Where does it hurt the most?" He asked.

"My rib cage," she said, softly, "Villeda kicked me there, a lot."

Already having heard enough, Angela walked away from them, disgusted when Brennan talked about the abuse she endured to Booth, even though it was the EMT's question. When Angela reached the rest of her co-workers, Cam was the first to speak.

"How is she?" Cam asked.

Angela shrugged.

"She'll only talk to Booth," she told her, "whenever someone else talks to her, it's like she just, zones out. It's kind of freaking me out."

"Just give her time, Ange," Hodgins spoke up, putting a comforting arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, allowing her to lean into him, "she'll be okay in time. We know she's not completely catatonic, since she's talking to Booth, so that's an upside, right?"

"Yeah, sure," Angela nodded, unsurely, "upside."


	50. Don't Apologize

**A/N: Thank you all for the feedback. =] I'm glad you were all so happy that it was Booth to the rescue. I love me some heroic Booth. ;]**

**This chapter was kind of a pain in the neck to write. I'm not sure why, but it took me forever. So just tell me what you think. =]**

Chapter Fifty:

"Don't Apologize"

The crisp, cold air was blowing softly through Brennan's hair as she explained her injuries to Booth, as opposed to the EMT, who was the original person to ask the question, occasionally letting go of his shirt to gesture towards the part of her body she was speaking of. Booth was nodding intently as he listened to her, keeping his eyes on the top of her head, since she had her head tilted to watch her hands as she spoke, only occasionally glancing up to make sure he was still listening. He'd glance at the EMT every so often to make sure he was listening, because even though she thought she was explaining to Booth, it was the EMT who actually needed to know, so he could help fix her up.

"I'm sorry," Booth whispered, feeling immensely guilty when she spoke.

"You didn't kidnap and torture me," she stated, simply, looking back up at him, even when her hands didn't leave his shirt, "don't apologize."

"I shouldn't have let you go get your wallet," he shook his head, feeling slightly ashamed of himself for being so stupid, "I should have went with you. I should have been able to-"

"Stop," Brennan demanded, her voice soft, even with the undeniable tone of firmness, cutting him off mid-sentence as she went back to watching her hands, "just, stop, Booth."

"Alright," Booth kept his voice quiet, giving her a nod of his head as his gaze shifted downwards to rest on the same place hers did, watching her absent mindedly bunch up the fabric of his shirt between her fists, then unclench, only letting go to smooth the fabric back down.

"Okay, Doctor Brennan," the EMT said, continuing even when she didn't make any indications that she was listening, "I'm going to just give a quick examination here, then we'll take you back to the hospital. You're going to just have to stay for tonight, since there's no major trauma to your internals," he paused when she didn't respond, "Doctor Brennan?"

Brennan's face was blank as she took a sip of her water, having completely blocked out everything the EMT had said to her.

"Bones?" Booth asked.

"What?"

"Are you listening?"

"Yes, of course I am."

Booth stepped to the side, giving the EMT his silent okay, hearing only a small whine of protest from Brennan when he stepped out from in front of her.

"It's okay, Bones," Booth promised, when she reacted like he was leaving again, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay," Brennan's voice was uncertain, as she clutched at his hand, like a child reaching for it's favorite blanket, comforted when she once again felt the warmth of his skin.

Brennan peeked up at the man next to her, making sure that he didn't make any sudden motions to leave her side. Booth only looked down at her, flashing her a reassuring half smile, the best he could muster up at the moment, since he was growing increasingly more concerned about her mental health at the moment. He knew it was normal for her to be standoffish after the trauma and abuse she'd been through in the past week, but he couldn't help but feel like it was more than just that. She literally wouldn't respond to anybody except him, and, while she was normally independent and bold, she was acting shy and helpless, like she'd die if Booth left her side again. He didn't mind the fact that she wanted to be with him at the moment, he just knew that something was wrong, because she was acting so out of character, getting upset when he'd take a step back, and grabbing onto his hand for dear life. Maybe tomorrow he'd call Sweets and see if this type of personality change was normal in abduction victims.

Brennan felt content, for the first time in a long time, one hand wrapped around her water bottle, and the other holding onto Booth's as he held it comfortingly, trying to make it look the least romantic that he could, so nobody got suspicious, and thought he was just being a good friend to the poor scientist. Her happiness and tranquility only washed away when the EMT said something, that she didn't pay attention to, and picked up her bruised arm, pressing his stethoscope to her wrist to check the strength of her pulse. He was shocked when she jerked her arm out of his grip, going from being calm and serene, to panicking and thrashing around in only a split second, taking him by surprise.

"Don't touch me!" She shouted, drawing attention to herself as Booth grabbed her arm gently to keep her from thrashing it too hard and injuring her shoulder more than it already was, "Don't-don't touch me!" She turned her attention to Booth, her chest rising and falling with her quick breaths as a sob rose in her chest, "Don't let him hurt me, Booth. T-Tell him not to touch me. Tell him!"

"Shh, sh," Booth wrapped a careful arm around her shoulder, pulling her down ever so gently so she could rest her head against his chest and cry into his shirt, "relax, Bones. He's not gonna hurt you. He's gonna help. He's do a few examinations, then take you to the hospital."

"No," Brennan shook her head, looking up at him with pleading eyes, "I, don't want to go to the hospital. I don't need it. I'm fine."

"Bones, you're not fine," Booth told her, knowing that this was no time to try and spare her fragile feelings, "you're hurt. You need to get checked out by a doctor. You can barely move."

"I can move," she insisted, "it just hurts when I do."

"I'm gonna start driving so I can be at the hospital when you get there," he said, giving her hand and gentle and reassuring squeeze, "you just need to ride in the ambulance without me, then I'll stay with you as long as you want."

"No," Brennan's eyes welled up with desperate tears, giving him her unintentionally irresistible pleading face, her lip quivering just enough to make him feel like the biggest ass on the planet when he would reject her, "please don't make me go, Booth. I don't want to go," by the time she finished the two sentences, she was crying again, "please. Don't make me go."

Booth sighed and turned to the EMT.

"How bad is she?" He asked, actually, to his own surprise, debating whether or not he should let her just come home badly injured, or stay a night at the hospital, "like, does she really need to go to the hospital, or would it just be for precautions?"

"Mr. Booth, I would have to recommend that she see a doctor," the EMT seemed surprised by his question, "but, I mean, I guess if she'd kept under _extremely_ close supervision, she wouldn't _have_ to go to the hospital, unless things get worse of course. And when I say extremely close supervision, I mean she doesn't go anywhere without somebody right behind her. She'd have to be bathed, and can't be on her feet for long periods of time."

"Fine, that's fine," Booth waved off, what the EMT thought was such a big request, "it's done. I'll do it. She's just, kind of freaked out right now, and I think it would be better for her to be somewhere that she's comfortable, instead of a hospital."

"I see your point," the man admitted, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "I mean, if you think you can handle it..."

"I can," Booth assured him, determined to prove that he could take care of her, since he'd failed so miserably the first time, allowing her to get into this whole mess, "it's not like she'd be letting anybody else help her right now anyway."

"Right," the EMT knew he may have been making a mistake, but, since it was two thirty in the morning, didn't have the strength to fight with the pigheaded FBI agent, "just, if anything changes, if anything gets worse, bring her to the hospital or call the ambulance. Don't try to fix it yourself."

"Hey. How stupid do you think I am?"

The EMT bit his tongue to keep from answering that question, as he simply just turned to pack his tools up and get back to the hospital. Booth, disregarding the fact that the EMT never answered his question, slipped his arm under Brennan's shoulder to help her up, slowly, gently, and extremely carefully, as she kept the blanket around her shoulders, and breathed a small sigh of relief when she didn't have to go to the hospital, and was allowed to stay at home. Her home. With Booth. With Booth was her home, regardless of the house they were in.

* * *

"Alright, easy, Bones," Booth grunted, as he helped her through the door, trying his best not to put too much pressure on her injuries, which were all over her body, making them difficult to avoid, "come on, just a few more steps," she was wincing in pain when she would rest too much weight on her left leg, her knee screaming as she rested the majority of her weight on the man that was helping her through the door.

Booth let out a rough breath when he kicked the door shut behind him, and placed Brennan gently on the couch, his back relieved when he no longer had the extra weight resting on his shoulder from the injured anthropologist. He took a seat next to her, breathing a sigh of relief as his hands raked through his hair, his nervous body having not adjusted to the fact that the stress of Brennan being missing was over, and he could relax again. After only a few seconds of breathing time, Booth stood back up again.

"I'll go get the bath started," he offered, knowing if he stayed on that comfortable, welcoming, couch much longer, he'd be dead asleep within the hour.

"I'm capable of showering," Brennan swore, pushing off the couch with her left hand, since her right wrist was one of the parts of her body that needed some rest, "my left hand is working fine. I only need one hand to wash my hair."

"Bones, jeez, sit back down!" Booth sidestepped in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders to guide her carefully back down to the couch, "you're insane. You can barely stand, and you're going to just get up and stroll right into the shower? No."

"You're being needlessly protective again," Brennan looked up at him with uncharacteristically pouty eyes, "you don't need to bathe me like I'm a toddler. I'm perfectly capable of washing myself. And besides, look at you. You're exhausted. How long has it been since you slept?"

"I got about two hours of sleep before I came to get you," he told her, proudly.

"How about before that?" She asked.

Booth remembered back to the last time he slept before that, which had been a day after she was kidnaped, when he passed out with his head on his desk, until Sully came in and woke him up when he thought he had evidence, which turned out to be nothing of use.

"That's not important," he brushed off her question, "what's important is making sure that you don't hurt yourself even more than you already are, because you're stubborn and not only will you not go to the hospital, but you won't let me take care of you either."

"I don't need to be hovered over. The injuries are minor," she winced when she thought back to how far from minor they felt when they were happening, "I can function."

"Don't fight me on this," Booth pleaded, kneeling in front of her, taking her hand gently in his to try and coax her into just listening to him, for once, "please."

Brennan tensed up when his lips brushed over her knuckles.

_Relax, Brennan. It's just Booth. He's being affectionate. He's not going to hurt you._

Her mind was trying to rationalize with her body when even just the smallest brush of his lips caused her body to tense up in fear.

"You okay?" Booth asked, when he looked up to see the blank expression on her face.

"Yeah," Brennan managed, nodding once.

Booth stood up, letting her hand fall from his before he reached around her waist to help her off the couch. Brennan was going to groan in frustration, and tell him that she could walk to the bathroom herself, but even she couldn't deny that she needed help with that part. Just walking the few feet from the living room to the bathroom would be a project in itself if she didn't have Booth to lean her weight on, although, she was feeling bad when he'd let out a hissing breath or grunt quietly, the added weight of his partner proving to not be satisfying for his back.

When they reached the bathroom, Booth drew up the bath with his right arm only, leaning awkwardly when he did so to make sure that Brennan could still lean on him comfortably. Brennan, however, pushed off his shoulder with her good hand, starting to slowly but surely shed her clothes, occasionally wincing in pain or hissing a sharp 'ow'.

"Bones, do you need help?" Booth asked, at this point, wishing she would just stop being so stubborn and let him help her.

"No," Brennan snapped unintentionally, more annoyed with herself than she was at him, "I can be self sufficient. I don't want you to leave me, but I don't want you to have to treat me like an infant either. I don't know why everyone thinks I'm so terribly hurt, or traumatized, or whatever they think I am, because I'm not. I'm fine. I'm," she paused when a lone tear trickled down her cheek, her voice crackling against her will, "fine."

"Hey," Booth softened his tone, using his thumb to wipe the tear off her cheek, feeling her recoil slightly under his touch as she winced in anticipation, "it's okay for you to let people help you sometimes. You're only human, Bones. You don't have to be embarrassed because you want and need help. It doesn't make you weak."

"I don't like when people smother me," she informed him, "and it's not you, it's everyone. The EMT, Angela, and probably everyone else once they get the chance. I want to just forget about all of this. I don't need people hovering over me constantly. It honestly makes me uncomfortable, and it makes me feel like there's a spotlight on me."

"We won't talk about it unless you want to," Booth promised, "but, you have to let me help you. I know you want to forget about it, but I'm not going to ignore that," he gestured towards her bruised and cut up body, noticing then that she was only wrapped up in a towel to cover herself up, "you have to let me take care of you. Only until you're healed."

Brennan sighed and gave the slightest eye roll as Booth shut the water, when he noticed that the bathtub was starting to get a little too full.

"Fine," she muttered, gesturing with her finger for him to turn around, "look away."

"Bones, it's not like I haven't seen you naked before," he reminded her.

"Not like this," she said, lowering her voice, "please," she pleaded with him, "just turn around until I get in."

Booth silently turned around, wanting so badly to tell her that she didn't have to be embarrassed of her injuries, but not wanting to make her feel 'smothered', as she put it. Brennan struggled to get into the tub, but made no noises, in fear that he'd think he needed to help her. She wanted to at least be self sufficient enough to step into a bathtub by herself. The warm water of the bath felt like heaven when she relaxed into the water, the heat relaxing her tensed muscles slightly as she let out a satisfied sigh.

"Too warm?" Booth asked.

"Mmm," Brennan mumbled, "no, it's perfect."

Booth turned back to her once he was sure she was settled in to her bath, taking a seat on the bathroom floor next to the tub, resting his arm against the edge and his head against his arm. Brennan cupped some water in her hands and dropped it over her head, wetting her hair and face to rinse some of the dirt away. She never thought water could make a person feel so much better, but just feeling the slightest bit more clean and relaxed did wonders. Booth, realizing that she wouldn't be able to reach, sat up and reached over her to grab her shampoo, body wash, and conditioner, setting them on the edge where they were of convenience to her. Mumbling a soft thanks, Brennan opened her shampoo and squirted it in her hand, rubbing it into her now wet hair to work it into a lather. She only noticed Booth leaning against his arm, his eyes closed in exhaustion, when she cupped more water to wash the shampoo out of her now clean hair.

"You're exhausted," she observed again, taking a few minutes to get all the traces of her lavender shampoo out of her hair.

"Mmm," Booth mumbled in response, surprisingly comfortable against the hard edge of the bathtub, since, right then, he could have gotten comfortable pretty much anywhere.

"I'll try to make this hasty," she promised, squirting some conditioner into her hand, putting it in her matted hair, "I'm sorry, but can you hand me my brush? It's on the sink and I need to brush the conditioner through my hair."

"You don't have to rush," he pushed off the edge of the tub to lean over and grab her brush of the edge of the sink, handing it to her once he was back in his comfortable spot, "take as much time as you need."

Brennan said another small thanks as Booth resumed his half nap against the cold surface of the bathtub. Even though he told her to take her time, Brennan still did things as quickly as she could, since she was feeling tired as well, and couldn't wait to just climb into that big, warm, bed of his where she could actually get a good night's sleep. After she finished cleaning up, she looked to her side, noticing only then that Booth had drifted off. He awoke with a jump when he felt water in his hair, courtesy of Brennan, when she ran her hands gingerly through his wild looking dark hair.

"Hmm," he mumbled, his head perking up from where it was resting against his arm, feeling the now lukewarm water drip down the side of his neck.

"You fell asleep," she observed, pulling up the drain stopper in the bottom of the tub to let the water drain out "so I wanted to tell you that you should probably move to your bed, but then I realized that I can't really get out of here."

"Oh, right," Booth stood up, grabbing the towel she had wrapped around her before, leaning down so she could grab onto his arms for support.

"Close your eyes," she said softly, not making any motions to stand until his eyes closed.

Booth huffed lightly as he shut his eyes, feeling her wet hands clutch tightly onto his arms to pull herself up. He blindly shifted his arms under her shoulders to help her out, handing her the towel once he was sure she was safely on the tile floor. Brennan wrapped the towel around her body, running her fingers through her wet auburn locks of hair. Booth opened his eyes, taking another towel off the towel rack to rub through her hair, so it was no longer dripping, seeing her pull away slightly before she realized that he was only drying her hair. He'd noticed that she winced and tensed up every time he touched her, but left it alone for that night, since he promised her that they wouldn't talk about anything until she was ready.

"Alright," he said, dropping the used towel down on the floor once her hair was slightly dried, "I think we both need to go to sleep."

Brennan laughed lightly as she held onto his shoulder, allowing him to help her over to the dresser, where she pulled out only his Flyers t-shirt and her plain emerald green panties, making him look away again before she changed into them. Allowing her to change at her own pace, Booth made his way to the welcoming bed, sighing when his back touched the mattress, which felt much more comfortable than usual that night, pulling the comforter up warmly over his shoulders. Once Brennan was dressed, she hobbled over to the bed, slipping in carefully behind him, draping her arms around his waist when she did.

"Booth?" She asked the half asleep man.

"Hm?" He responded.

"I love you," Brennan whispered, rubbing his upper arm softly with the palm of her hand.

"Love you too," he promised, the last thing either of them said before they fell asleep comfortably in each other's arms, sleeping deep and dreamless sleeps.


	51. We All Have Our Scars

**A/N: Hello, everyone. =] Thank you all for all the feedback, for the three hundred and seventh time, and I still appreciate it just as much as I always did, incase you guys were thinking I was going to turn into a diva. xD Sorry for the lack of update yesterday. When I went to work on the chapter last night, I fell asleep. Laptop open, music on. I don't even remember closing my eyes. xD But, anyway, here's another chapter for you all.**

Chapter Fifty-One:

"We All Have Our Scars"

Rain was tapping lightly on the window when Booth woke up to the faint gray light peeking into his bedroom through the window, immediatly taking notice to the warm body cuddled up next to him, her arm draped across his back when he slept on his stomach. Trying his best not to disturb Brennan, he moved her arm gently and slipped out of the warm bed, grabbing the clothes he'd laid out the day prior as he took them to the bathroom, shutting the door silently so he didn't wake the woman sleeping in his bed. At that moment though, he was pretty sure that an earthquake wouldn't have woken her up. As he started the water up for his shower, he found himself thinking about the night prior, and how vulnerable Brennan had been. Subconsciously, he was worried about her, not because vulnerability was bad, but because it just wasn't very Brennan-ish. Maybe she needed to talk to a psychologist. Or maybe she just needed time.

Booth was only about five minutes into his shower when he picked up his shampoo and ran it through his hair, the water from the shower making loud pattering sounds as it hit the bottom. Feeling a little more himself that morning, he started to sing quietly to himself.

"_You got a nasty disposition_

_Nobody knows the reason why_

_You got a bad, bad, reputation_

_Gonna hang down your head and cry_

_You've got bad, bad, luck_

_bad, bad, luck_

_You've got, bad, bad, luck_

_bad, bad luck._

_Thirteen is my lucky number_

_To you it means st-_"

He stopped when he swore he felt something, or rather, someone, pressed against his back, the fabric of their shirt quickly becoming soaked in the shower. A jolt of surprise caused him to gasp slightly, quickly turning around so he was facing his new shower companion, who was still dressed in the big Flyers shirt as the water soaked her through and through.

"Bones, what the hell are you doing in here?" He asked, over the sound of the water.

Brennan only responded by pressing her forehead to his chest, letting out a sigh of relief before she wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him tight against her. Booth was surprised by her bold approach, but hugged her back, still unsure as to why she snuck up on him in the shower, with clothes and all, but knew the answer when her shoulders shook with silent sobs.

"Hey, easy, Bones," he whispered, his hand rubbing softly up her back before she arched into him, so his hand couldn't make contact with the small of her back anymore, "it's okay."

"I thought you were gone," she admitted, the gray shirt soaked and dripping by this point, as she made no attempt to remove it, "when I woke up, and you weren't there..."

Brennan let her voice trail off, her head burrowing deeper into his chest.

"I know," Booth comforted her, making sure not to touch her in any other ways than having his arms around her to embrace her hug, seeing that she got a little skittish when he'd touch her back, "but I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

Brennan just nodded silently, not lifting her head from his chest as she held him close, afraid that if she let go and opened her eyes, she'd be back in that cellar, freezing cold, in pain, and alone. She wanted to believe him, but her own mind wouldn't let her. Her own mind was busy trying to convince her that this was only temporary. That this was all just a long, realistic feeling, dream.

* * *

Booth peeked at Brennan through the glass of his office, surprised she'd stayed in the room alone for that long without getting freaked out and going to find him again. He half smiled giving her a small wave when she looked up from the slinky on his desk and made eye contact. Brennan's smile was radiant as she switched the lifted her right hand to wave back.

When she smiled and waved innocently, Booth felt slightly guilty for bringing her there in the first place, since the only reason he did was so he could get Sweets' opinion on whether the way she was acting was normal or not. He didn't want to, but now that it was five days later, and she didn't seem to be making much mental progress, he figured it was inevitable. He'd rather her be annoyed at him for taking her to see Sweets than live closed off in her own mind for the rest of her life, only comfortable to talk and be with him.

He also wasn't sure why, even though she was so attached to him recently, and would get all bent out of shape if he left her alone for only a few minutes, she barely wanted him to touch her. He'd go to caress the side of her face, and she'd recoil away from his hand. He'd go to kiss her, and she'd keep her lips pursed, squeezing her eyes shut as if he were holding a gun to her head. One morning, he'd made the mistake of trying to playfully wake her up by kissing softly along the outer shell of her ear, only to receive a frantic 'don't touch me' and an elbow to the rib cage. When she realized it was only him, she apologized incessantly, and he promised her that he wasn't mad, but he was a little concerned as to why she freaked out from just the feather light kisses. He had a feeling that there was more going on than she was letting on to.

"Sweets," Booth breathed a sigh of relief when the psychiatrist joined him outside his office, glancing quickly at Brennan, who was looking absent mindedly around the room, "well you took your sweet time getting here," he glanced at the watch on his wrist.

"Sorry, I got caught up with another agent," Sweets said, tucking a file under his arm as he peeked into Booth's office at Brennan, who was examining a picture of Booth and Parker as she held the frame in her hands, "what did you need?"

Booth looked at Brennan again quickly, looking back to Sweets after only a few seconds.

"I feel like something's up with Bones," he said.

"Define 'up'," Sweets cocked an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Well ever since that whole Mara Muerte incident, she's been acting kind of, off."

"How so?"

"Well she's very," Booth struggled to find the word, "I don't really know how to word it, because 'clingy' is a little harsh, but she's just, she doesn't want to leave me, ever. Cam gave her the week off of work, so that wasn't a problem, but she just gets freaked out every time I leave her alone for too long, and I don't know if that's something I should be concerned about."

"That's completely normal," Sweets assured him, taking another look at Brennan.

"No, no, don't tell me that's 'normal', Sweets," Booth got a little more animated when Sweets' words irritated him, "because I know Bones, and I know for a fact that what's going on here is not 'normal'. It's something."

"Well she's traumatized, Booth," Sweets told him, figuring that went without saying, "she's not just going to be fixed overnight. She needs some time to readjust and forget about the experience. Did you try talking to her about it?"

"No," Booth told him, honestly, "I promised I wouldn't make her talk about it. I said we wouldn't even bring it up unless she wanted to talk."

"Which is the correct approach, but now that almost a week has gone by, you need to be slightly more aggressive with trying to get her to talk about what's upsetting her. Once she gets it out in the open, things should get better, but if she doesn't, and she keeps it all bottled up, she'll be stuck at this wall."

"So she'll stay like this unless I break my word and make her talk about something that she doesn't want to talk about?" Booth asked.

"Unless you want to let her try and talk to me. She probably won't, but if you don't want to go back on your word, then maybe we can give it a shot."

"No, I'd rather her talk to me," Booth said, almost too quickly, "just, tell me how I should bring it up. I don't just want to be all 'oh, hey Bones. Wanna talk about your traumatic abduction? Then maybe we could go get Chinese after'."

Sweets rolled his eyes at how Booth always took things to the extreme.

"The best way to do it would probably be to try and coax it out of her. Bring up something about yourself to open the conversation, maybe something that you have trouble talking about. If she sees you being vulnerable, maybe she'll follow your lead and see that it's okay for her to be vulnerable as well."

"You know, I'm really not liking this idea very much," Booth was slightly annoyed by the suggestion, "so now I have to tell a story that I don't want to tell, and I have to make her do the same thing. I don't want to put her through it again, Sweets."

"You think she was abused, sexually?" Sweets asked.

"I don't know, Sweets," Booth snapped, getting frustrated with him and with the whole situation, "I don't know what happened to her. She won't talk to me. I know she was beaten, and that's it. There could be more. I. Don't. Know."

Sweets was a little taken back when he was snapped at. He was only trying to help him after all.

"Well, I told you what, from a psychological standpoint, you need to do," Sweets shrugged, unsure of what Booth wanted him to say at that moment, "if you don't want to, then don't. But if you decide not to then she may never be mentally healthy again."

Booth thought about it for a minute, huffing lightly when he was faced with the decision of either break his promise to Brennan, or let her be mentally scarred until someone else could squeeze it out of her, which was looking highly unlikely, since she refused to talk to anyone else.

"I'll ask her tonight," Booth muttered, still unsure if he was making the right decision, "but if this goes wrong, I'll shoot you."

* * *

Brennan was sitting up in Booth's bed, propped up against the pillows as her back leaned against the headboard. She picked at her fingernail polish absent mindedly as she sat alone in silence, patiently waiting for Booth to return to the bedroom. Perking up a little when she heard the door open, she looked up and smiled at Booth, who smiled back at her.

"Look what I have," his voice was cheerful as he sat next to her, on top of the comforter that she was laying under, as he handed her a spoon and set the small tub of vanilla pudding between them, "the perfect remedy for all injuries. Pudding."

"Mmm," Brennan laughed lightly, pulling off the lid, dipping her spoon into the tub after she set the lid on the night stand, "I should have guessed, considering your feelings about pudding."

"Pudding and I have had some pretty emotional times together," he joked, popping a spoonful into his mouth, "when Jared and I were younger, we used to get into fights about who ate the last pudding."

"The funny part is that you only stopped fighting over the pudding last year," Brennan joked, taking some pudding on her spoon and putting it in her partner's mouth before he could respond to her little quip.

"Funny," the word was muffled by the pudding in his mouth.

Brennan laughed softly as well, leaning her head against Booth's shoulder as she spooned some more of the tasty dessert into her mouth, grateful that he had such good taste when it came to things like sweet treats. They stayed quiet for a few minutes before Booth stuck his spoon into the pudding and left it there. Brennan watched him curiously when he reached for his own shirt, sliding it up his toned torso, stopping at top of his rib cage. Brennan took notice to the long scar that looked like it was from a gash, going from the top of the left side of his rib cage to half way to his shoulder blade. It was one of those scars that was big, but mostly faded, so it wasn't noticeable to people who didn't see him shirtless often. Even Brennan only detected it when they were making love one night, and her hands traveled over his skin.

"See that?" Booth asked, tracing the tip of his index finger over the scar.

Brennan nodded.

"Jared and I were playing soldier in the backyard when we were young, and when we'd play war, we'd pick up rocks, or sticks, and throw them, pretending they were grenades," he shuddered at the childhood memory, even though he still wasn't finished, "and so Jared picked up a ball he found, and just threw it across the yard, only playing around though. He accidently knocked over a flowerpot, and it shattered. It was my mom's favorite. She wasn't home though. So when my dad came outside, I told him I did it. That's what big brothers are for, to protect their little brothers, so I took the heat for the flowerpot. My father, he told Jared to go inside so he could lecture me, so he screamed for a little while, picking up a piece of the glass to show me what I did. 'Seeley Joseph Booth! Are you even paying attention to anything I'm saying?' he'd yell at me. And that's always when I knew it was coming, so I closed my eyes, and, he hit me. But he forgot he was holding the glass," Booth swallowed hard, his mouth drying up when he remembered the pain like it was yesterday, "and it cut me. But I didn't cry. If I would have cried, he would have just hit me twice as hard. I had to take it like a man."

"Seeley," Brennan breathed, her heart aching with every word he said, "I'm sorry."

Booth shook his head.

"That wasn't even the worst of it," he said, bitterly, quickly catching the darkness of his tone, clearing his throat afterwards as he examined Brennan's facial expression when she stared intently at the injury, "go ahead. You can touch it if you want."

Hesitantly, Brennan reached out to touch his scar, chills immediatly ripping through her skin when her hand made contact with the warm, bare, skin of his torso that she hadn't felt in such a long time. Her finger traced back and forth over the scar, memorizing every detail of it before she peeked up at him, her eyes stinging with tears. Booth opened his mouth to apologize for making her cry, but Brennan cut him off when she started to speak.

"These," she started, holding out her arm for him to examine, gesturing towards the scars that were barely visible under her fresh injuries, "these are from my foster parents. They used to burn me with their cigarettes when I'd do something wrong, like, leaving my dolls on the floor, or not finishing my plate at dinner."

Booth pushed up the short sleeve of his t-shirt to reveal one of his biceps.

"That hurts," he concurred, showing her the cigarette burns on his arm as well, "my father only did that sometimes though, if he already had one in his hand."

Brennan moved her hand to his upper arm, running her fingers gingerly over the cigarette burns in his skin, some of them deeper than others, indicating how long his father had kept that particular cigarette pressed into his skin. Booth shivered slightly when her fingers smoothed over the little, circular, scars, almost as if she were marking them on the mental map she already had of her lover's entire body. He took notice to a recent cut on the inside of her arm, wanting to take his turn at touching her imperfections, but decided not to, since he didn't want to spook her.

"What's that one from?" He asked, pointing to the long, straight, cut, careful not to touch her skin when his fingers neared it.

Brennan turned her arm over to look at her, tensing up at the memory of her kidnaping. Why was he trying to get her to talk about it? Did he not understand that being kidnaped and tortured in a basement was something she would rather forget about?

"This?" Brennan asked, nodding her head at the cut, pausing before she continued, "Villeda."

"Why?" Was all Booth asked.

Brennan stayed quiet, feeling as if she were drifting back into the zone where everything would go black, blocking out the things that were unpleasant. Booth was supposed to be her safety, her shelter, her 'rock'. But now it was him that was causing her to withdraw.

"Bones," Booth's voice was pleading, when he saw her eyes get that almost glazed over look, the look they got when she was blocking out Angela, and the EMT, "please," his voice was in a whisper, looking at her with a soft, yet serious, look, "don't shut me out."

Brennan's eyes met his, and she could feel whatever was causing her to close her mind off melt away, slowly but surely, for the moment at least.

"He wanted to cut my hair," Brennan explained, raking her fingers through her auburn hair when she spoke of it, "he asked me if I liked it when you tugged my hair during intercourse, but I didn't answer. It got him angry when I ignored him, but I didn't care. So he yelled, told me you didn't love me. That if you loved me, you'd have saved me."

"You didn't believe him, did you?" Booth asked.

"No," Brennan shook her head, moving her other hand to his other arm to grip onto hm by the arms, "he used to tell me everyday that you didn't love me. That you would not and could not ever come back for me. But, anyway, I got the cut when I went to shield my head and stop him from cutting my hair off. He wound up cutting into my skin instead."

Booth hissed as he imagined her pain.

"It'll probably leave a scar," Brennan told him, her voice quiet.

"We all have our scars," Booth's voice was in a whisper, as he tilted his head up to look at the woman bracing herself on his arms seriously, "every one of us."

With his words, Booth leaned in, almost as if he had no control over his body, and pressed his lips to hers, hearing a soft gasp from Brennan before she clamped her lips back together. Booth was determined to fix her though, no matter what it took.

"Bones," he whispered, pulling away very slightly, so their lips were still almost touching, but not quite, "it's okay, baby. It's just me."

His words seemed to wash away the majority of her fear, as she made the first bold move she had in, what felt like such a long time, and closed the small space between their lips. Booth kissed her back, but made sure not to push her limits, letting her lead at her pace. Her tongue encouraged his lips apart and he quickly complied to her wishes, parting his lips to allow her access. She moaned at the warmth of the inside of her partner's mouth, a warmth she hadn't felt in such a long time. Her tongue carefully explored his mouth as she slowly moved her hands to cup his face, his jaw smooth and freshly shaven under her fingers.

Booth moved his hands to her waist, his hands just lingering over it, not wanting to touch her hip and scare her before she was ready. But he knew she was when she arched up the best she could in their current stance, guiding her small waist between his big and soothing hands. He groaned from his chest in appreciation, as her tongue ventured further, exploring the deeper depths of his mouth by this point, able to taste nothing but him, and vanilla pudding, the taste of her partner all over her tongue eliciting a moan from her as well. Brennan broke the kiss a few seconds afterwards, and Booth opened his mouth to apologize, thinking he'd taken things too far, only to stop when he felt her lips against his chest, making their way downwards. His skin tasted of him, with a salty twinge, do to the barely there sheet of sweat on his body.

"Temperance," Booth groaned appreciatively, earning him a flick of her tongue against his skin, "oh, God, baby, you have to slow down."

"Why?" Brennan asked, bringing the kisses to a halt as she rested her chin against his chest to look up at him desperately.

"Because you're not ready," he said, honestly.

"I, don't understand," Brennan was completely confused.

Simply showing her, not telling, Booth moved his hands down to slide them gingerly up the fabric of her shirt, making contact with the soft skin underneath the material. He could feel her tense up under his touch, her eyes darkening as she disconnected from him, her eyes focused on the wall behind him, as opposed to his sultry brown eyes. He quickly removed his hands from her clothing, not wanting her to shut down on him after all the progress they'd made that night.

"See?" He asked, softly.

Brennan nodded.

"But you probably want to make love," she said, her voice serious, "it's been a while."

"I can wait," he promised, "whenever you're ready, Bones, I'm ready."

"I want to be ready," she said, honestly, "I want to be ready so badly, but then, when you touch me, it all goes blank. I felt like there was a connection, when I was kissing you, but, when you're hands touched my skin, I lost it. The connection was gone."

"It's okay," Booth promised, again, pressing his forehead to hers, "it's not all about sex."

"I know," Brennan admitted, resting her head against his chest, "but, I don't want you to grow annoyed with me because I won't engage in intercourse with you."

"I wouldn't get annoyed by that," Booth rolled his eyes playfully, his arm naturally moving around her waist, "I can go a without sex. I'll be able to manage."

But by the time he finished his sentence, Brennan was fast asleep under his arm and against his chest, the only sounds in response to his words being the occasional light snore she'd give.


	52. A Promise I Intend To Keep

**A/N: I'm sorry about the wait for that one, guys. This was another one of those chapters that was kind of a pain in the ass, for whatever reason. xD Thank you all for the feedback, and I still love you all. =]**

Chapter Fifty-Two:

"A Promise I Intend To Keep"

Booth mumbled something inaudible in his sleep as he shifted uncomfortably, shivering when he felt the lack of blankets over him.

"Bones," he groaned in annoyance, his hand subconsciously reaching to her side of the bed to grab the comforter she was wrapped up in, "you're hogging all the blankets again."

He heard only a small whine from Brennan when he pulled some of the blanket off of her to cover at least a small portion of his body. Sharing a bed with Brennan could prove to be difficult at times, since she was one of those people who, in her sleep, would yank all the covers over herself and cocoon herself in the bundle of blankets, leaving the person next to her shivering when they woke up in the morning. Booth hated waking up able to feel the cold air on the exposed parts of his arms, and he found himself wishing for summer to come soon, so he and Brennan didn't have to share blankets.

"Bones," he dragged out the nickname in irritation when she pulled the blanket off him again to wrap it back around her shoulders.

Booth gave up on trying to reason with the sleeping woman, still half asleep himself, and just scooted closer to her, wrapping his arms carefully around her waist after he wiggled under the blankets with her, able to feel the heat radiating from her body. Brennan craned her neck to look at her partner when she felt him nuzzle softly into the skin on the back of her neck. Booth opened one eye when he felt her turn around, peeking up at her to see that she was wide awake, and had been for quite some time. Apparently, Bones was an intentional blanket stealer.

"Hi," Brennan smiled innocently, her eyes sparkling in the dim morning light peeking through the cracks of the blinds over the window.

"Hey," Booth's voice was still groggy as he half smiled at her, opening his other eye to look at her with tired eyes, his hands resting on her stomach when he wrapped them around her waist, "you, Bones, really need to learn how to share."

Brennan laughed lightly placing her hands over his.

"I know how to share," she informed him, "I just wanted you closer. I concluded that I'd rather you get warm by sharing my body heat than by conserving yours with the blanket," she smiled when he did, "I've noticed that lately you move away from me when you're sleeping."

"Well I don't want to crush you," he laughed lightly, "your entire body is still injured. If I roll over in my sleep I could really hurt you."

"I'm capable of moving if you roll onto my arm or something," Brennan shrugged, holding his hands tightly against her stomach, taking a long pause before she spoke again, "I wish I wasn't so sore so we could actually do something."

"I know," Booth agreed, nodding once when he remembered what he'd planned the day before in his head, before he remembered that she could barely get out of bed, let alone do any activities, "I wanted to take you bowling."

"I would like to go bowling once I'm healed," she told him, eyes glimmering, "I haven't been bowling since I was a child."

"Don't think telling me that is going to make me take it easy on you," he warned her.

"You'll beat me the first few rounds, but I'm certain that by the end of the day I'll be able to beat you at least once. I have a steep learning curve."

"Oh, God, Bones, don't even go there," he laughed, knowing she was about to spring into a ramble about how fast of a learner she was, "I know. You're a genius."

"Genius is a bit of a bold term. I'd go with something more like-" She stopped herself when his finger came to her lips, barely touching them as he made a small, drawn out 'sh' sound at her words.

She understood the message he was trying to send when she stopped, turning again to look into his eyes, silently asking for his approval. He simply nodded.

"I wish we could have sex," Brennan blurted out.

She noticed his cheeks flush slightly as he did that little, awkward, Booth-y laugh. The one that told her: 'you're making me uncomfortable'.

"Wow, way to just, throw that one out there," he said.

"Well there's nothing else to do here," she said defensively, wondering why he all of a sudden reverted back to the prude Seeley Booth who didn't even want her to say the word sex, let alone talk about the actual act, "we're stuck here, in bed, awake and bored. Naturally, sex would be the first idea that would come to mind."

"Really?" Booth made light of the awkwardness, "I was thinking something more along the lines of the 'I'm going on a picnic' game."

"I would suggest bringing condoms to this alleged picnic," Brennan said, nonchalantly.

"Okay, um..." Booth cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks burning just the slightest bit at her socially awkward way of coming onto him, "are you hungry? Because I'm starving, and I was thinking pancakes sound like a really good idea right now."

"Can I ask you something?" Brennan asked, completely disregarding his attempt at changing the subject to pancakes.

"Sure," Booth looked at her skeptically, unsure as to what she was going to ask.

"I want to see if maybe I'd be able to grow more accustom to the idea of you touching me if I was the one who instructed you to," she ran her fingers through her tangled locks of hair.

"I'm, not sure what you're asking," Booth was slightly confused.

Brennan pushed her hair over one shoulder, leaving the right side of her neck exposed and bare. She pointed to one of her sensitive spots, on the side of her neck and near the back of her ear.

"Kiss me there," she instructed him.

Booth looked at her, as if silently asking for her assurance. Brennan, picking up on what he was asking, gave him a silent, but unsure nod, feeling her heart pounding in anticipation. She squeezed her eyes shut when he leaned forward and she could feel his breath on her neck, bracing herself for the anxiety attack that she was expecting to take over, only to relax when he kissed the spot, and it felt surprisingly good as opposed to frightening.

"Booth," she breathed in a sigh of relief, her eyes still closed, but not clamping nearly as tight together anymore.

"Are you okay?" He asked, misinterpreting her breathy voice.

Brennan nodded quickly.

"Can you do it again?" She asked, meekly.

Booth nodded silently and pressed his lips softly back to her desired spot, feeling her relax under his lips. Brennan made a small sound of appreciation as he pecked gentle kisses up and down the small patch of skin, going no further than just feather light kisses. She reached around to push gently on the back of his head, urging him closer.

"More," she whispered in encouragement, assuring him that it was okay.

A gasp caught in her throat when she felt the tip of his tongue poke experimentally at the skin of her neck, making sure it was okay to take things there. Brennan simply nodded with a small moan, her fingers clutching at the back of his head. She took his hand in hers, leading it to rest on her waist, assuring him that it was okay to touch her. His grip tightened around her waist after she placed his hand there, knowing that there was a mental line for her that, if crossed, even just the slightest bit, could cause her to shut down again.

"Hmm," Brennan purred, tilting her head back in satisfaction, "Booth."

"Yes," he whispered against her skin, causing chills to shoot up her spine, "it's me."

"Booth," she repeated serenely, satisfied with the results of her experiment.

Brennan felt her heart leap, practically, out of her chest when the shrill sound of Booth's phone disturbed her thoughts. She felt cold and distant when he pulled away and shifted back to his side of the bed, wanting him to just ignore the phone and resume her experiment. But when you worked with murder, phone calls were important.

"Booth," he answered, glancing over at Brennan, who was now toying absent mindedly with the bottom of her shirt.

"_Booth, hi, it's me, Sweets,_" Booth felt an annoyance towards the twelve year old when he heard his voice on the other end of his phone.

"What do you want, Sweets?" He asked.

Normally, when someone called, he would speak to them politely and listen to what they had to say, but with Sweets, he just couldn't bring himself to. Just the sound of his voice drove him crazy sometimes.

"_I have to talk to you about something,_" he said, his voice blank and serious, "_but you're not going to like it._"

"Okay," Booth urged him to continue.

"_Well, the court date is set_," Sweets started, trying to find a way to ease into this, knowing, at that moment, why Caroline had pushed off the 'honor' of being the one to tell Booth on him.

"Great," Booth was confused as to why Sweets said he wasn't going to be happy, since that was a good thing, "Villeda's pleading guilty right? I mean, even if he doesn't, we have all the evidence to convict him, it'd just be a pain in the ass."

Sweets paused, taking a deep breath.

"_Well, no_," he said, his voice low, "_he's pleading not guilty, so you need to come in and discuss testimonies with Caroline, but that's not why you're going to be angry,_" he paused again, continuing when Booth didn't respond, "_Caroline needs Brennan to testify at his trial when he pleads not guilty_."

Booth's jaw tightened when he heard the words.

"No," he said, simply, as if it were that easy, standing from the bed and completely disregarding Brennan, who was laying there waiting patiently for him to hang up, feeling slightly annoyed when he got out of bed like she wasn't even there.

"_Booth, it's not really a request, it's more of a demand,_" Sweets told him, "_Caroline needs Brennan to testify. If she doesn't, there's a chance that the evidence isn't enough._"

"The evidence is enough, Sweets," Booth snapped, causing the young psychologist to wince in surprise, as he started to tear through clothes, rougher than necessary, to find a suit, "there's enough evidence that _I_ could try this case and still get a conviction. Caroline doesn't need anything other than the evidence. But the defense will rip her apart if she testifies, because they're trying to discredit her and everyone else involved."

"_Booth-_"

"I said no, Sweets. I made her a promise. A promise I intend to keep. A promise that I wouldn't let her get hurt again."

"_Caroline will have your ass if you fight this,_" Sweets warned him.

"I don't care," the harshness of Booth's tone was more meant for Caroline than Sweets, who was only the middle man in all this, "I fought in a war and I'm an FBI agent. Caroline Julian doesn't scare me."

"_Booth,_" Sweets tried to reason with him, knowing he was acting out of the emotion that he felt about Brennan's abduction rather than what he knew would be best to get Villeda put in jail, "_you do realize that by trying to protect Doctor Brennan, your risking getting her hurt again? If Villeda gets off, he'll go after her again._"

"No he won't, because I won't let her out of my sight, and I mean it this time. She won't even touch the doorknob without my okay, I don't care how mad it makes her."

Brennan watched him curiously as he jerked a button down off of a hanger in the closet, yanking his t-shirt over his head in one swift motion. She knew he was talking about her, and was annoyed when he spoke to Sweets like she wasn't sitting two feet away. Rolling her eyes, she contemplated how rude he was being. What were they talking about anyway? Was somebody else going after her now? Wasn't Villeda going to jail?

"_Being overprotective is only going to make it worse,_" Sweets told Booth, not even attempting to spare his feelings at the moment.

"There's no such thing as being overprotective after what happened, Sweets. What I got out of this, is that you can never be too careful. Now, I'm going to press this nice little picture of a red phone, and the line's going to go quiet. And when it does, don't even think about calling this number again, are we clear?"

"_Yeah, but, Booth-_"

Booth clicked the end button on his phone before Sweets could finish, closing his phone and tossing it onto the now empty side of the bed next to Brennan. Brennan expected him to say something about what just went on, at least tell her why he sounded so concerned to her, but realized after a few minutes of his silence that he wasn't going to. He only continued to change, as if nothing happened.

"What happened?" Brennan finally asked, seeing that she was going to have to be the one to bring it up.

"Nothing," Booth's voice was dark, "nothing happened. Now get dressed."

"It was very clear that you were talking about me, Booth," Brennan slipped out of bed, going to find something to wear, growing increasingly more annoyed with him as he continued to leave her out of the loop, "if this is about me then I have the right to know."

"Just let it go, Bones," he warned her, fastening the button of his dress pants, smoothing down the dark fabric of his jacket once he was dressed.

"No," Brennan felt more bold than she had in a while when she didn't just give in to his demand, "there's obviously something wrong, and I will not be satisfied until I know what it is."

"I said let it go, Bones," his tone was unintentionally sharp when he spoke to her as he fastened his 'cocky' belt buckle, "for _once_, just listen to me."

Brennan was taken back by his harsh tone of voice and words.

"You're being a bit of an ass," she pointed out.

"I'm more concerned with your safety right now than your feelings," he told her, honestly, "I'm sorry if you feel like I'm being an ass, but that's really not important right now."

Brennan was far too annoyed to respond after that, as she finished getting dressed in silence, throwing her hair into a ponytail so she didn't have to spend an hour doing it. She couldn't fathom what his problem was, and why he was being such a top of the line, arrogant, jerk all of the sudden, but she didn't have the strength to argue with him. Silently telling him she was ready to go, she picked up her purse and slid it over her shoulder, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor as she made her way as hastily as she could, considering her condition, to the front door and outside, Booth following not too far behind.

It was a few minutes into their drive, and neither of them had said a word, for different reasons. Brennan was silent because she was annoyed with him, and would be until he apologized. But Booth wasn't speaking because he knew he had to give her space after he acted like, what he knew seemed like, the biggest jerk on the planet. It was only to protect her though. She was finally starting to make some progress, and he feared that telling her Villeda may not go to prison was going to just cause her to shut down all over again. And neither of them could afford that.

"Listen, Bones," Booth finally spoke, when he figured she had enough time to cool down, "I'm not trying to hurt your feelings or anything, I just don't want to tell you anything until we're sure. There's no use in getting you all worked up about something that might not even happen," Brennan was silent, "Bones?"

"I'm highly, highly, annoyed with you right now," she informed him.

"I don't know what to say," Booth said, honestly, "I'm doing this for you. I'm protecting you, Bones. Isn't that what you want?"

"What I want is for you to treat me like your partner, your best friend, the woman you claim to love, not like your child," Brennan said, coldly.

Booth let out an irritated huff as he kept his eyes on the road.

"Fine. You know what? I'm wrong, you're right, I'm an ass and you're perfect. Happy?"

"Sarcasm will not satisfy me, Booth."

"What _will_ satisfy you?"

"If you tell me what's going on."

"Well then I hope you're okay with being unsatisfied, because it's not going to happen."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"I already said 'fine'."

"Well I'm agreeing with you."

Brennan bit the inside of her lip in frustration with her partner, keeping her eyes locked on the windshield, making sure she made zero eye contact with him. The tension in the SUV was so apparent, that she felt as if she needed to open a window before it smothered them, and she knew, just from that feeling, that this was going to be a very long day.


	53. Just Partners

**A/N: Hello. =] I don't know why, but I felt like I needed to say hi to you all today. Okay, so, here's the next chapter, and as usual, thank you to anyone and everyone who's left any kind of feedback, whether that be reviews or adding to their alerts or favorites, ect. And a wave to all the lurkers too. =]**

Chapter Fifty-Three:

"Just Partners"

The clock that was mounted on the wall of Doctor Sweets' office was ticking monotonously, as he sat in the room with Brennan, who remained silent. She was pulling nervously at her blouse, feeling extremely uncomfortable when Booth left her there, alone, with the psychologist, but was too angry with him to beg him to stay. She was quickly regretting being too proud to beg, feeling her heart practically pounding against her rib cage in anxiety.

"Doctor Brennan?" Sweets tried, wondering if, using his expertise in psychology, he'd be able to put some of her fears at ease.

"Hm," Brennan barely responded, keeping her eyes glued to the floor.

Sweets paused to think of a way to open up conversation, since he'd assumed she wasn't going to answer him, and didn't have anything planned to say.

"How are you healing up?" He asked, examining the bruises on her body, which were only just barely starting to fade.

Brennan shrugged with one shoulder.

"Slowly but surely," she responded, the rational part of her mind telling her it was safe to be with Sweets, but the traumatized part of her mind begging for Booth.

"That's good to hear," Sweets nodded, making sure not to make her feel smothered, or like she was being babied, "sometimes those bruises take a while to heal. I remember I fell out of a tree when I was a kid, and got this nasty bruise on my leg. It turned all black and blue and yellow, and took three weeks to heal," he smiled when she laughed weakly, glad they were at least making some sort of progress, "Doctor Brennan," he said, after a pause, "you know you don't have to feel hesitant to talk to me."

"I know," Brennan silenced the traumatized part of her brain that could only plead for her partner, reminding her of why she was even there in the first place, "Doctor Sweets, can I ask you something? And I want an honest response."

"Sure, of course. Honesty. It's what I do."

Brennan sucked in a deep breath, feeling secretly and immensely proud of herself for being able to talk to Sweets without having a sort of mental block.

"You called Booth before. I know because I heard him address you by name. Whatever you said got him really worked up and upset, but he won't tell me what happened, and it's really starting to bother me, because I know it has to do with me. So, can you just tell me what you told him so I don't have to remain in the dark?"

Sweets had to think about this one, since now, he was in a lose-lose situation. If he told Brennan, Booth would probably shoot him between the eyes, but if he didn't, then Brennan would never be able to confide in him again. And that, of course, would not help her process of getting back to the point where she was able to converse with people, aside from her partner.

"Doctor Brennan," he started, warily.

"You don't have to explain, or go into any detail, but I just want to at least be aware if I'm in any sort of danger."

"Well, Doctor Brennan, I'm not sure if 'danger' is really what it is, but I still feel like you have the right to know," Sweets had to wonder, briefly, if he'd regret making this decision, "Villeda is going to plead 'not guilty', which means the charges are going to have to go to trial. Now, Caroline feels, in order to make sure that he goes to jail, you'll have to testify, but Booth doesn't want you to. Actually, 'doesn't want you to' is an understatement. He won't let you."

Brennan blinked rapidly, to make sure she wouldn't pass out when she heard the words. He must have been joking around with her, pulling her leg in a not-so-funny joke. But she knew he was serious when he just looked at her with a concerned expression, obviously taking note to the way her eyes seemed to glaze over when her stomach twisted into a knot.

"I don't want to either," she agreed, seeing why Booth was not only hesitant, but refused to tell her what was going on, "but I know Caroline. She'll do what ever she needs to do to get a conviction, even if that means putting me through metaphorical hell and back."

"Don't you want everyone to know what he did to you?" Sweets asked, confused as to why she was so hesitant to talk about the incident, "Don't you want to get him put in jail for what he did? If you testify, the jury will know your story."

"I don't need sympathy, Doctor Sweets, I need to forget. And I'm doing fine with that on my own."

"Sometimes just trying to push it out is not an effective way of coping with post traumatic stress," Sweets said, unaware that he was gradually pushing her too far, further than she could or would go at this point, "sometimes you need to talk about it. Get it out in the open. It's okay, Doctor Brennan. You can trust me. Doctor-Patient confidentiality."

Brennan felt her throat start to burn, the carpet in Sweets' office, which her eyes were fixed on, starting to swirl and blur in and out of focus.

"I..." Brennan paused, needing to swallow before she continued, her throat threatening to clamp shut, "I-I need water."

* * *

Caroline Julian knew how to intimidate people. Being a lawyer, that was essential. But still, it never ceased to amaze Booth just how intimidating she could be, even to him. He'd told Sweets that she didn't scare him, and that it wasn't a big deal, but when she glared at him, like a lioness looking at the gazelle it was about to maul, he felt slightly uncomfortable.

"Agent Sullivan," Sully perked up when Caroline barked his name, sounding unintentionally angry with him, since it was actually Booth who she was angry with, "have you tried to knock any sense into this man? You _are_ the agent on this case."

Saying that Sully was in charge of Brennan's abduction case never failed to piss Booth off to the third degree. Sully was by no means in charge of this case. Booth was the one who was holding Brennan when she cried, sleeping in bed with her when she felt cold and lonely. Sully simply gathered some files and papers. Booth was, in reality, the heart of the operation.

"I understand where Booth is coming from, in a way," Sully tried his best not to offend either one of the other two people sitting in the room, "I get it, that Brennan's upset, and doesn't want to testify in front of an entire court room, but, on the other hand, if she does, it'll help, because she'll get it off her chest, and she won't have to worry about Villeda anymore."

"I don't know why people think 'getting it off her chest' is going to just make her problems just, poof," he clapped his hands once, startling Sully, "disappear."

"They're not going to disappear, Booth, but you can't protect her forever," Sully tried to reason with him, "she's an adult. She needs to deal with the trauma, as hard as it may be. You're not helping by keeping her shielded away from the world. You're making it worse."

"Don't tell me how to take care of my partner, Sully," Booth's tone was dark when Sully tried to lecture him on how to 'help', "just because I'm not pushing her to talk about it doesn't mean I'm keeping her 'shielded away from the world'. I told her she can talk about it if and when she wants to, but I'm not going to hover over her."

"Sometimes people just need a little push," Sully told him, "not trying to sound like Doctor Sweets or anything, but she's going to get comfortable just trying to forget about it, and it's not going to get any better."

"She's already making progress," Booth had to keep his hands busy with his pen so he didn't knock Sully out, "what you guys don't seem to get is that it's not going to happen overnight. If I push, she's just going to shut down again. That's why I'm not letting her testify. Because it's getting easier for her, and if she gets up on the stand and has to explain what happened to a court room full of people, she'll shut down. I know she will."

"You _don't_ know that, Booth, you're being overprotective. I know Tempe. She's able to deal with things that most people couldn't. I know she's upset, and maybe has some post traumatic stress, but I think you're making it seem worse than it is by getting all protective."

The pen that was in Booth's hand dropped to the hard surface of the table with a small noise. He came close, so close to just decking Sully the way he deserved to be, but he was able to control himself. The fact that Sully basically tried to tell him that he knew_ his_ Bones better than he did enraged him. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to tell Sully about he and Brennan's relationship, just to stick it to him, but he knew he'd regret that later, when he had to explain to Cullen why he decided the FBI rules didn't apply to him.

"Bones is my partner and my good friend," Booth's tone was harsh, as much as he tried to keep it under control, "I know her better than anyone. Just because you two used to sleep together, doesn't mean that you know her better than I do."

Sully was a little surprised by how his comment about being overprotective set him off, and opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off by Caroline.

"Hey, girls, girls," Caroline's voice had it's normal sarcastic tone, "don't go gettin' your panties in a bunch," she looked at Sully and nodded towards the door, "get out of here, Agent Sullivan. I need to have a word with Booth, alone."

Sully happily complied and left the conference room before World War III broke out between him and Booth, who obviously had strong feelings all of the sudden about people thinking they knew Brennan better than he did. After the conference room door shut behind him, Caroline turned to Booth, her expression indicating that she wasn't happy with the obvious hostility between him and Sully.

"I didn't know you and Agent Sullivan had such, bad energy," she said.

"Yeah," Booth made it clear that he was not happy she or Sully at the moment, "it's a long story."

"That I'm not asking you to tell," Caroline pointed out, before she got back on topic, "but your hard feelings about Tim Sullivan don't matter right now. This is about Doctor Brennan after all. And this is going to be a very brief discussion. She's testifying. End of story."

"I won't let her," Booth said, simply.

"That is not your call, Agent Booth," Caroline was used to people just doing what she asked, and was surprised when Booth refused.

"I'll take her on vacation during the trial. Maybe we'll go to Quebec."

"And I hope you have fun in Canada, because when you get back I'll prosecute you for obstruction of justice," they both kept their expression's strong, trying to intimidate the other, but both failing, "and if you think I'm kidding, then try it. You won't be much help protecting your girlfriend from a jail cell."

"Bones isn't my girlfriend," he said, almost too quickly.

"Whatever. Your 'friend with benefits'."

"We don't have benefits either. We're just friends. Just partners."

"I don't care what you are, cherie," she still used the term of endearment, even as they were arguing, "all I care about is getting that gang leader in a nice, cold, jail cell where he rightfully belongs, and I need your, whatever she is, to testify for that to happen. Therefor, she'll testify," Booth opened his mouth to object, but was cut off, "no. Don't respond. Just get going."

* * *

Before the psychologist could object, she made a B-line for the door, closing it roughly behind her before she glanced at her surroundings. The Hoover building was familiar, but, that day, her mind couldn't process where anything was, as she looked frantically around for the water cooler, the fact that the room was spinning doing nothing to aide her search. When she sucked in a deep breath, and calmed down just slightly, her legs allowed her to walk. She was unsure as to where they were carrying her, but she knew her subconscious mind was probably leading her to that cooler she was looking for. Her steps were anything but smooth as she scurried in an almost zig-zag pattern, before being stopped by someone she barely noticed was there before hand.

"Hey, Tempe, are you okay?" Sully's voice went in one ear and out the other, his hand touching her shoulder.

Brennan roughly jerked his hand off her shoulder, a gasp filling her chest with air.

"Don't touch me," she warned him, sharply, looking past him, to the wall behind him.

"Hey, it's me, Sully," he told her, seeing that there was obviously more going on than he was aware of, "Tempe, it's me. Are you alright?"

Brennan looked up at him desperately, her lip quivering in fear when she did. Sully's face grew more concerned when he saw the expression she wore, and he pulled her into a soft hug. Brennan wanted to object, yell and push him away, but seemed to only embrace the affectionate act, helpless tears stinging her eyes. Sully was looking down at her as he rubbed comforting circles into her back, seeing a tear drizzle down her cheek.

"Hey, don't cry," he tried to cheer her up, moving one arm to swipe the tear off her cheek gently, "don't cry, Tempe. You're okay. You're fine," he let go of her, keeping one arm in his grip as he helped it around his shoulder, "what do you need?"

Brennan rested her weight on Sully's side before taking notice to the sling on his arm, immediately pulling herself back upright. She wanted to ask what happened, but couldn't seem to form the words as she just looked at him, feeling fairly pathetic.

"What do you need?" He asked.

"Water," Brennan responded quietly, swallowing once more.

Without words, Sully just nodded his head in the direction of the cooler, gesturing for her to follow behind him. Brennan obliged, not feeling up to talking anyway. She watched as he took one of the little paper cups from the side and filled it before handing it to her.

"Thanks," Brennan mumbled, feeling slightly embarrassed for having a near panic attack in front of her former lover like that.

"Mhm," Sully responded, leaning a tiny bit of his weight against the cooler as he tried not to watch Brennan when she sipped from the small cup.

The water felt cool and refreshing on her throat, but she still couldn't help but focus on the mini breakdown that had occurred only a few minutes prior. She found herself wondering what would have happened if Sully didn't happen to be there. Would she have passed out in the middle of the Hoover building? Would she have just started crying for Booth and given away their relationship, which was strictly secretive, to the entire bureau?

"Better?" Sully asked, once she seemed to have relaxed almost all the way.

Brennan nodded, tossing the empty cup into the garbage.

"Yes," she responded, "thank you."

"What happened back there?" He asked, in an attempt to comfort her, "you looked lost."

"It's nothing," Brennan shook her head, rubbing over her biceps awkwardly, "I just, got into a misunderstanding with Sweets and kind of lost my bearings a little bit. This past week or so has been fairly hectic."

"I can imagine," Sully agreed, taking a fairly long pause before he continued, "so, are you still staying with Booth? Or are you back to your apartment now that Villeda's being held?"

"I'm staying with Booth until my injuries heal," she told him, wondering why he took such an interest in where she was staying, "the doctor said I needed to be supervised, which I still think is unnecessary, so I'm just staying with him until I get permission to leave. Why do you ask anyway?"

Sully rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, having to wonder if maybe it was too soon to ask her on some kind of a date, since it was only five days after her kidnaping. But he figured that maybe if they went on a date, she'd be able to open up to him about what was so traumatic about the abduction, and she'd be cured of this mind set of wanting to hide from the world.

"Well," Sully started, feeling some nerves about asking her on a date, since it had been almost two years since the last time they did anything romantic, "I was just wondering if..." he looked for a good way to put it, stumbling over his words, "well I just thought maybe, if you're not too busy or anything, we coul-"

Brennan had stopped paying attention to him when she spotted Booth from a little ways away, turning her attention fully to her far off partner, and completely tuning out Sully, who was still trying to form a sentence. When he got down to the middle of the word 'could', Booth was close enough for her to see clearly, as she cut him off and took her hand off the cooler so her weight was no longer against it.

"Booth," she whispered in a breathy voice, the genuine relief and happiness that she was seeing her partner clear on her face as she made her way hastily over to him, pulling him into a tight hug unexpectedly.

Sully was a combination of hurt and surprised when she showed her partner such affection. Hurt because she completely ignored and disregarded him when he was trying to ask her something, and surprised because she was supposedly traumatized and unable to get close with anyone at that time. Booth had conveniently left out the fact that he was the only person she actually _would_ talk to.

"Hi," Booth was confused by her affection as well, since she was mad and completely disinterested in him when he left her with Sweets, "what are you doing out here with Sully? You were supposed to stay with Sweets."

Sully watched skeptically as Brennan held him tight in, what seemed like, a bit more than a friendly hug. His suspicions of the 'more than friendly' aspect of their actions was confirmed, when, instead of answering verbally, Brennan reached up and smoothed her hands over his jaw, pulling him down to place a 'more than friendly' kiss on his lips, leaving Sully standing at the cooler, his jaw hanging slightly slack as he watched the romantic scene.


	54. It's a Pinky Swear

**A/N: Again, thank you all for the feedback. =] It still, after fifty three chapters, makes me excited when I get an email telling me I got feedback. xD And also a hello to anyone who's just been reading and coming along for the ride. =]**

**Sorry about leaving you guys on that tiny cliffhanger, but sometimes I can be evil. xD Hopefully you're satisfied with this chapter. **

Chapter Fifty-Four:

"It's a Pinky Swear"

"Bones!" Booth jerked away from the kiss, surprised by her aggressiveness, especially right out in the open like that.

Brennan looked up at him desperately through her eyelashes, brushing a piece of auburn hair out of her eyes.

"No more secrets," she whispered, grabbing his tie gently in her right hand, skimming her thumb over the silk material, "I can't do it anymore. I am not ashamed of you, Booth."

"I'm not ashamed of you either, Bones," he promised her, looking down at his tie, which was being caressed by Brennan's thin fingers, "it's not a matter of shame. It's a matter of-"

Booth was cut off when Sully approached them, only having to go a few feet to be close enough to where he felt like part of the loop.

"Wow," he commented, as Brennan swiftly dropped the tie from her hands and straightened it against his chest, seeing no point in trying to hide their relationship from Sully now, fairly confident that the wet lip lock was enough evidence for him to figure it out himself, "I always kind of suspected, but, I mean," he looked for the right way to word it, "I really shouldn't be surprised, but, I am."

"Sully, you better keep your mouth closed about this, you hear me?" Booth figured intimidation would be the best way to keep the other agent from running his mouth to Cullen.

"It makes a lot more sense now, why you get so weird when I bring up Brennan, and our relationship," Sully contemplated, completely ignoring his intimidation, knowing, even if he did tell, Booth wouldn't do anything to harm him, "I should have figured it out. Whenever I say anything about our past relationship, you get all tense. I should have figured out that you just didn't want to hear about it because you don't want to think about all the other men who have been where you are when you're, you know, 'together'."

Booth had to laugh bitterly at Sully's comment about them being in the same place.

"You'll never know what it's like," he promised him.

"To what? Be under Brennan? Of course I do."

It was obvious that he was not taking this well at all. He knew Booth was the reason she didn't go on that year long trip with him, and all of this just confirmed it, making it that much worse. But he had to convince himself that Brennan couldn't feel for anyone. That everything would just be a 'fling' to her. That it wasn't just him. Booth was just another notch in her bedpost, another way to satisfy her 'biological urges'.

"Booth is not a conquest," she told him, responding to his comment about all her men knowing the same feeling when it came to sleeping with her, "and, technically, he doesn't know what it feels like to be 'under Brennan', because I'm never in control. It's actually quite irritating how, out of every time we've slept together, I've still yet to be on top."

"Hey, hey, hey, how about we resume _that_ topic at a better time," Booth's cheeks were practically glowing red in embarrassment, "listen, Sully, just keep this one under your hat, okay? You weren't supposed to even find out about this, so can it just be something between us? Man to man," he looked over at Brennan, "and woman."

"I'm not gonna rat you two out for getting your rocks off with each other ," Sully promised, holding his hands up in a surrender, "I just, think it might not be the best idea. Considering the fact that you work so close together, and if this goes south, that can only spell disaster for, not only the two of you, but the people you work with."

"I think we can handle it," Booth assured him, "just, forget that this happened. You can keep trying to get Bones back in your pants, and I can continue to pretend I don't care. Just, wipe this whole incident from your mind."

"That's scientifically impossible," Brennan whispered in to him, only to be shushed.

"Fine, but just, be careful," Sully warned him.

"Be careful of what?" Booth had to ask, getting unintentionally sucked in.

"This one," he chuckled bitterly, nodding at Brennan, "you think it's different with you, until she decides she's bored with you. I thought we had something special too, until she decided to just, let me leave. She didn't even try to stop me. You're not any different from the rest of us, Booth. Just another guy."

"You know, insulting a woman is not a great way to get her back into bed," Booth told him, feeling Brennan tug gently on his arm when the tension rose between he and Sully.

"Booth, come on," Brennan kept her voice soft, feeling subconsciously hurt by Sully's words, "he's only speaking from emotion because he's angry."

He went to go say something to Sully, and ignore Brennan's quiet pleas for him to just let it go and leave with her, but he decided against it, not wanting to upset her anymore than she already was. Instead, he turned the opposite direction, towards the door, and started to leave, Brennan following close behind.

* * *

"I should just, popped him one," Booth told Brennan, his eyes on the road as he drove.

"He's not worth it," Brennan assured him, her head leaning against the window, "besides, hitting Sully wouldn't have accomplished anything, other than getting you in trouble, again."

"It would have shut him up," he pointed out, "I'm not going to let him talk to or about you like that. It's just not gonna happen, Bones."

"Booth, just let it go, it's not a big deal."

"Let it go? The way he talked about you was completely disrespectful."

"I don't care. He's not worth it, Booth. He doesn't know anything about our relationship, nor will he ever."

Booth paused, knowing she was much more upset about Sully insulting her than she was letting on to.

"I love you, Bones. You know that, right?"

"Of course."

Booth waited patiently for an 'I love you too', not receiving one right away. Brennan reached into her shirt and touched the medal hanging from around her neck nervously, just checking to make sure it was still there, and still keeping her safe. Once she realized what he was waiting for, she finally spoke.

"And I love you too."

Booth smiled, glancing over to see her tugging nervously at the medal.

"You're still wearing it," he observed.

"I know this sounds ludicrous, but I think you're right about it protecting the person who's wearing it," she admitted, rubbing it between her thumb and index finger, "this kept me safe, from Villeda and Garcia. If I didn't wear it..." her voice trailed off, not wanting to finish.

"Go ahead," he urged her gently, "nothing bad 'll happen if you finish."

"I..." Brennan swallowed the nervous lump in her throat, feeling tears spring almost instantly to her eyes when she went to explain, a pain rising in her chest at the memories of when she thought Booth was dead, "I would hold this in my palm all the time," she cupped the medal and pressed it against her chest, "like this. And, sometimes, I'd feel like," a few tears were trickling down her cheeks, as her voice cracked, "I'd feel like you were still here. With me. But when I called for you, all I could here was the echo of my own voice, and, I knew they-they-"

Booth pulled on to the side of the road so he could comfort her, wrapping his arms carefully around her shoulders once the car was in park. Without finishing her thought, Brennan leaned her head against his shoulder, her tears wetting the fabric of his shirt.

"Hey," he whispered, rubbing small, comforting circles into her back, "it's okay. I've got you, it's okay. None of that is ever going to happen again, okay?"

Brennan nodded, sucking in a deep sobbing breath before she finished.

"They killed you," she blurted out, before she lost her nerve, feeling the floodgate of tears practically burst open with the words as she looked up into his eyes "they told me you were dead, that they shot you in the back of the head and killed you. And I couldn't handle it, Booth. I've never wanted to die so much in my life. It was scaring me. I wanted to _die._ I would have killed myself if they'd left me with a knife, or a gun, or any other thing I could use to end it. My chest still aches when I think about it," she buried her head back in his chest as he hushed her comfortingly, letting her know it was okay, and that he was there, "I just want it to stop. Please, just make it stop."

"Shh, it's alright," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, "I've got you, baby. I'm not going anywhere. It's okay."

"You think I'm acting childish," Brennan sat up and wiped her cheeks, rolling her eyes at herself.

Booth had to laugh at her self consciousness.

"No, I don't think you're acting 'childish'," he laughed softly, "it's normal, Bones. It's perfectly normal," he paused, giving her a minute to collect herself, "do you feel better now that you said it?"

He was actually curious to see if everyone was right about 'getting it off her chest'.

"No," Brennan admitted, with a shrug of her shoulders, "it feels worse. The pain in my chest I mean."

Booth rubbed his thumb affectionately over the hard bone in the top of her chest, where her tank top started, pressing a soft kiss to her chin.

"How about now?" he asked, semi playfully.

"Maybe if you moved your lips up a bit," she suggested, the same hint of playfulness in her voice as in his.

He kissed the tip of her nose, skipping over her lips purposely.

"Now?" He asked.

"Booth," Brennan complained, "don't be a tease."

Booth laughed lightly and grabbed her face softly between his hands, caressing his thumbs over her cheeks as he looked adoringly into her eyes.

"You're so beautiful," he commented, "even when your eyes are all red and puffy from crying."

"Booth," she complained, yet again.

He pulled her face closer to his, pressing their foreheads together and allowing her to feel his breath touching her lips.

"So, so, beautiful," he whispered.

"Stop," she whispered back, embarrassed by the compliment.

She was used to being called 'hot', and 'sexy', sometimes even 'fine', but 'beautiful', she didn't think she'd ever get used to. Her focus was torn away from her embarrassment when Booth brushed his lips softly over hers, barely touching them, before he moved to kiss her burning cheek, her eyelids, her eyebrows, then the bridge of her nose.

"You're kissing me in fairly awkward places," she commented, trembling slightly when she felt the warm puff of breath from his raspy laugh caress her earlobe.

"I'm taking my time," his voice was in her ear, causing a barely audible gasp to escape her lips when he kissed the inner shell of her ear softly, "to appreciate you, and remind you exactly why I love you."

"On the side of the road in the middle of nowhere?" She questioned.

She didn't care where they were, but she had to ask to keep her mind distracted from the intimacy of his lips tracing the outer shell of her ear, occasionally nipping or kissing the inner shell, before he kissed her earlobe softly, contemplating whether she would let him nip at it or not, considering her fear of closeness in the past week.

"Did you want to move somewhere else?" He asked, his lips still lingering near her earlobe as he spoke to her in a semi seductive tone.

"You mean to engage in sexual intercourse?" Brennan asked, running her hands subconsciously up and over his biceps, which fit almost too snugly in the white button down shirt, practically threatening to rip the fabric if he turned the wrong way.

"Only if you want to," Booth assured her, not giving her a 'yes' or 'no' answer.

"I don't know," she whispered, feeling slightly embarrassed that she was so unsure of what she was feeling, "I, don't know what I want to do. Physically, I mean."

Booth pulled away from her ear to take her face back between his hands, looking at her seriously.

"No pressure, okay, Bones?" He asked.

"I, don't know what that means," she shook her head the best she could when it was being restrained by Booth's strong hands.

"If you feel like I'm pressuring you into this, say something," he assured her, "don't just say you want to because you think_ I _want to. Only if you're ready. This is about you."

Brennan bit her lip as she thought about it, feeling torn. As much as she physically wanted to make love to, or rather with, the man she loved, she wasn't sure if she was mentally ready to take that step yet. If her mind wanted to shut down, she wouldn't be able to control that, as much pleasure as she was physically feeling.

"I want to try," she concluded, bracing her hands on his shoulders, "I believe I want to try."

"Are you sure?" Booth asked, wanting her to be one hundred percent sure about this.

Brennan nodded.

"I'm positive," she promised.

* * *

When they arrived back at Brennan's apartment, she didn't really understand why she felt so nervous. It really wasn't Booth's fault that she had the jitters, since he was doing everything he could to make her feel more comfortable, even suggesting her apartment so she'd be in a place where she was comfortable. Not wanting to drag out the anxious wait any longer, Brennan dropped her keys on the counter and glanced at her partner, silently nodding towards her bedroom before she received a nod and started to walk, able to feel him following close behind.

"Bones," his voice was quiet as she closed the bedroom door behind them, leaning into her partner's chest when he spoke unsurely, "are you sure you're ready?"

"No," Brennan told him, honestly, "but I'm fairly sure that I am. I want to try. Trial and error is essential for every aspect of life. How am I ever supposed to know if I'm ready or not without experimenting?"

She gasped when she felt her body being urged toward the bed.

"I'd prefer you cut back on the squint talk while I'm trying to make love to you," he told her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his hand on her back as he guided her down until she was laying comfortably on her back, tugging on his tie to bring him down with her.

"You're not making love _to_ me," Brennan assured him, looking up at the man, who was now resting his weight on his forearms above her, "you're making love _with_ me."

"Bones," he smiled in admiration, "I love you."

He leaned down to capture her lips, only to be stopped short.

"Wait, Booth," Brennan's voice was an octave higher than usual when she stopped him hastily, her heart pounding erratically against her rib cage.

"What's up?" He asked, brushing a lock of hair out of her face for her.

"Can I stop you if I change my mind?" She asked.

"Of course," he whispered, leaning down once more, actually finding her lips this time, able to claim them with his.

Brennan leaned up to meet him halfway, her eyes closed as she tried to ignore her pounding heart, practically screaming at her to stop. Her hands instinctively reached up to loosen his tie, tugging it out of the collar of his shirt once the knot was undone. She moved her hands to the back of his neck when she finished, pulling him closer as his lips urged hers apart, allowing his tongue to slip into the familiar territory of her mouth.

Booth could feel Brennan trembling under him, but for then, assumed that it was only out of pleasure, rather than fear. She'd gone this far already. The real test was actually making contact with her skin. So he tested her, his hands trailing down her fabric covered torso before slipping carefully up her shirt. Brennan twisted under his touch, letting out a small, desperate, whimper into his mouth as they kissed. Her eyes squeezed shut in anxiety as her waist twisted and arched to get away from his chilly hands, her entire body trembling by this point.

_Stop moving. It's just Booth. These fears are completely irrational. _

As much as her mind tried to convince her not to shut down, her body seemed to be arguing. Her rib cage was aching with the dull pains she'd felt a week ago, from the brutal beatings, and there was a pressure on her chest that made her feel like she was being crushed. But she didn't want to say anything, since she didn't want to ruin it for Booth. She knew he was fairly smart thought and that, eventually, he'd figure it out by how her hips were trying to escape his grip, twisting and turning in every which way in order to escape him.

"Bones," he whispered into her mouth, attempting to steady her waist, only to feel it twist more, and hear the whimpers coming more frequently.

He broke their kiss and slid his hands out from under her shirt, sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed to give her the space she needed.

"Bones, you're not ready," he concluded for her, "you're squirmy and anxious, and your entire body is shaking. Not to mention you're making those whimpers, that are just," he stopped when he remembered the heart breaking sounds, "you're not ready."

"I know," Brennan admitted, sitting up to rest her back against the headboard, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Booth smiled comfortingly, touching her face softly, "it's okay, Bones. It's completely fine."

"Promise?" Brennan asked.

Booth nodded, holding out his pinky to her.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" She asked, glancing down at his little finger.

"It's a pinky swear," he told her, having to laugh at how clueless she was, "you hook your pinky with mine and it's almost like an oath."

"That's idiotic," she said, but cooperated anyway, linking her pinky with his.

"Not everything is logical, Bones," he reminded her, scooting up to sit next to her before putting his arm around her shoulder, "just remember that."

"Why?"

Brennan snuggled up under his arm, confused as to what he was trying to tell her.

"The world is a crazy place, Bones," he told her, "some things, they just don't seem like they should make sense, but they do. They're so imperfect, that they're perfect."

"Imperfection can not be perfect. If it was perfect, it wouldn't be considered imperfection," she informed him, "and that sounded like a lot more than a comment on finger promising."

"Look at us, Bones. We're total opposites. We shouldn't make a good pair, but we do, because, sometimes, opposites attract."

"I never understood that phrase," she admitted, half smiling sweetly at her partner.

"Oh, Bones," he laughed. He found it adorable that she was a genius, but had such a hard time with such simple concepts, "you amaze me."

"I do?" She asked.

Booth nodded and kissed her cheek softly.

"You do," he promised.


	55. You Seem Peeved

**A/N: Thank you everyone, for the feedback of any kind. =] Sorry it's been a couple days since I last updated. I was feeling kind of under the weather, so I went to the Doctor, and apparently, what I thought was a cold, was actually bronchitis. So, easy to say I haven't really been feeling up to writting. xD But, anyway, I finally finished this chapter, after working on it piece by piece for the past couple days.**

**And this is completely off topic, but did anyone else find the end of last night's episode completely heart wrenching? I, all kidding aside, started tearing up. I feel so bad for Brennan, but, at the same time, she had her chance, ya' know?**

Chapter Fifty-Five:

"You Seem Peeved"

Brennan opened the door to her office at the Jeffersonian, huffing quietly when she saw her partner asleep on her couch. It was her first day back at work since the abduction, so Booth was constantly checking in, doing exactly what she wanted him not to do by hovering. She shrugged out of her lab coat, getting ready for break, seeing Booth sit up out of the corner of her eye.

"Hey," he said, his voice still slightly raspy from just waking up as he sat up, keeping her blanket draped over his lower body.

"Can't you nap in your own office?" Brennan asked, sounding slightly rude.

"My back hurts when I nap in my own office. I don't have a couch in there," he reminded her, still being playful before he realized that she actually was annoyed, "what's up, Bones? You seem, peeved."

"I'm not _peeved_," she put emphasis on his strange choice in words, "I'm just, trying to be independent, like everyone's saying I should be, and I'm just," she fumbled with her words, not wanting it to come out wrong and make it sound like she didn't want him around, "I don't need a babysitter, Booth."

"I'm not babysitting you, Bones, and I'm sorry if you feel like I'm smothering you, but I just want to make sure you're okay. Alright? It's normal for me to be concerned. It's only been about nine days since you got kidnaped, and you could barely even be in a room without me until a few days ago, so I'm just making sure you're not uncomfortable being here."

"Of course I'm not uncomfortable being here, it's the Jeffersonian, I spend the majority of my time here," she practically barked at him, taking a seat in her computer chair, resting her elbows on the desk, and putting her head in her hands.

Booth could tell that there was obviously something bothering her. Something a lot bigger than just feeling like she was being babied. He pushed the blanket off his body and stood from the couch, slipping behind Brennan's chair so he could put his hands comfortingly on her shoulders. Brennan sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly under his touch.

"Okay, I won't come back if you don't want me to," he compromised with her, before telling her indirectly that he knew there was more to this than she was letting on to, "now you can tell me what's really bothering you."

Brennan mumbled something inaudible into her hands when he started to rub her shoulders, his strong grip releasing some of the tension in her muscles.

"You gotta speak up, Bones," he told her, his hands kneading her shoulders through the fabric of her shirt, "I have no idea what you're saying."

Brennan picked her head up, arching her shoulders as she let out a small breath.

"The trial," she repeated the muffled words from before, "it's, mmm, a little lower," she paused to give him instructions on where to rub her shoulders, "starting soon."

"Soon?" Booth questioned her, "it's not starting for another few weeks."

Brennan shrugged under his hands, groaning appreciatively when one of her joints made a cracking sound, relieving the pressure in her shoulder blade.

"That's soon, especially when you have to testify," she said, trying to tilt her head back in satisfaction, only to be stopped by his hard torso, which prevented it from lolling back too far.

Booth grew annoyed with the whole situation again when Brennan brought up the fact that she had to testify, reminding him of why he was so stressed about this trial in the first place, but didn't let her feel it in her shoulder rub.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you, if you don't want to testify, we'll work it out so you don't have to," he reminded her.

"And by work it out, you mean do something illegal so we can get arrested for obstruction of justice," Brennan reminded him.

"If that's what it has to come down to, then yes."

"No, Booth. I'd rather just testify then go to jail."

"Bones," Booth complained, dragging out the nickname in a whine as he pressed his lips to the top of her head and mumbled into her hair, "I don't like seeing you upset."

"I'm not upset," she promised, shivering when his breath touched her scalp.

"You will be."

He traced his lips down to her temple.

"I'm capable of talking about the attack," she assured him.

"So you won't even talk about it with me, but you'll talk about it in front of an entire court room full of people?" Booth questioned, detaching his lips from her skin and taking his hands off her shoulders, turning her chair so she was facing him to look questioningly into her eyes.

"It doesn't have anything to do with you," she mumbled, taking his tie in her hand, subconsciously toying with it, "I just believe I would feel more comfortable discussing it to a large group of strangers than to just you, in private."

"Why?" He asked, watching her hands as she tugged on the tie for no apparent reason.

"Because, Booth," she answered vaguely, "just, because."

"Bones," he warned.

"Now you're going to get angry with me?" She asked, looking up at him with a harsh expression in her eyes, "I don't know why, Booth. Have you ever considered the fact that maybe by hovering you just make me feel uncomfortable?"

"Do I?" He asked.

"No," Brennan admitted, sheepishly, feeling slightly guilty for making him think he was making it worse, rather than helping.

Booth sighed, relaxing his shoulders, which had grown fairly tense through the conversation, not wanting to stress her out more than she already was. He knew she wasn't trying to get under his skin. She was just stressed about the trial, the same way he was.

"Why are you pushing me away?" He whispered, reaching down to touch her cheek softly.

Brennan shrugged timidly, dropping his tie so she could run her hand over his forearm.

"I'm not doing it on purpose," she said, "Sweets would say it's my subconscious mind trying to cope with the stress by lashing out at the people who I care for."

"Sweets also told me you were sleeping with Sully," he reminded her.

"Well, like all people, Sweets is occasionally wrong. But I think he may be correct in this situation. You know I hate psychology, but I honestly just feel like things are coming out of my mouth that I don't mean, and I'm not entirely sure why I'm saying them."

"Speaking without thinking?" Booth's voice had a joking tone.

"I don't do anything without thinking," Brennan smiled, moving her hand to caress the line of his jaw, the rough stubble of his day and a half old beard scraping her palm gently, "I love you, Booth."

"Is that one of those things that just came out of your mouth, or do you mean it?" Booth asked, playfully.

"I mean it," Brennan promised, smiling at the small joke as she leaned up to press a kiss to his chin, "I love you."

"I love the way that sounds coming out of your mouth," Booth smiled.

"Well then, I love you."

"I love you too, baby."

"Don't call me baby."

"Okay, muffin."

"Booth..."

Booth pecked her lips when she started to get annoyed with his pet names.

"Bones," he tried, earning a smile and a kiss on the cheek from Brennan. Booth laughed at the irony of her _wanting_ to be called Bones, "you used to practically bite my head off when I called you Bones, now it's your nickname of choice."

Brennan shrugged, not finding it nearly as odd as he did.

"So many men have called me 'Tempe'," she informed him, thinking back to all her former lovers who called her by the shortened version of her first name, "you're different. We have a different kind of relationship. Friends first, lovers second. I never had a relationship like that before you, so, naturally, I would be turned off to the idea of you calling me Tempe."

"Jeez, Bones, you sure are picky with nicknames," he pointed out, laughing lightly.

"I am not," Brennan's voice was defensive, "just not Tempe or baby. I don't think that's really asking too much."

"So I can call you Temperance?" He asked.

"You've called me Bones for so many years that I would never be able to get used to you calling me Temperance," she complained.

"See? So I _have_ to call you Bones," he smiled proudly.

"Since when do you want to call me Temperance anyway?"

"Since you started _liking _Bones. Now how do I get under your skin?"

"I knew you were just trying to annoy me," she frowned.

"Aw, chin up, Bones, I'm just being affectionate," he smiled a Booth-y grin, poking her side enough to make her jump and twitch in response, "hey, look at that," he laughed, amused by how ticklish her side was, "Bones is ticklish."

"Seeley Booth, don't you dare," she warned, attempting to dodge his hands when he tried to poke her side for a second time, "Booth!"

Brennan tried to tell him she was serious, but was laughing as she said it, making it sound like an oxymoron. When she was able to catch a breath, she grabbed his wrists tightly, making sure he was unable to pull away.

"Ouch, Bones," he complained, rolling his wrists in her grip, "loosen up a little. You've got me in a vice grip."

"I'm not letting go of you until I'm certain you won't tickle me again," she stated.

"I won't," he vowed.

Brennan furrowed her eyebrows, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I don't believe you," she concluded.

"I'm not gonna tickle you, Bones, just let go of my wrists."

"No."

"Bones, I-"

Booth was cut off when the door to Brennan's office opened, causing her to turn her head around quickly to look at who was standing in the doorway.

"Um, hello," Brennan said, when she saw a woman she was unfamiliar with standing in her office.

She let go of Booth's wrists and smoothed down her blouse, which was crinkled in places from her squirming. Booth looked at the tall, brunette woman standing in the doorway suspiciously, subconsciously placing his hand on his gun, a habit he'd developed since Sully told him about Mara Muerte having a hit out on Brennan.

"Hello, are you Doctor Temperance Brennan?" The woman asked.

"Yes, that would be me," Brennan responded, confused as to why this woman was asking who she was, "can I help you with something?"

"Well, actually, I was sent here to deliver you a request from one of my clients," she explained, smoothing down her skirt as she spoke, "I'm Marissa Anderson, I represent people who are being charged of crimes due to their race and or wealth as opposed to sufficient evidence. I'm representing Miguel Villeda."

Brennan's shoulders tensed when she heard the name, her pupils dilating slightly.

"You think Villeda's being charged because of his race and the fact that he doesn't have tons of money?" Booth asked, having to laugh bitterly at the oblivious lawyer, "He's being charged because he stalked, kidnaped, and brutally tortured Doctor Brennan."

"And you are?" Marissa left the question open for him, thinking he was just Brennan's boy toy.

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth," Booth told her, pulling out his badge to confirm it, "Doctor Brennan here has been my partner for almost four years."

"Four years?" She asked, "And no ring? Which one's afraid of commitment?"

"Bones and I are work partners," Booth corrected her quickly, "we work together."

"If you say so."

"Yeah, okay, who _I_am isn't even important anyway. What I want to know is why you think Villeda is innocent, when he clearly isn't."

"We all have our opinions, Agent Booth, and I believe Villeda is being falsely accused," the lawyer stood her ground with confidence, "Doctor Brennan is wealthy and famous, so, naturally, the first person the Feds are going to point the finger at is someone who isn't as well off as Miss Brennan here."

"We arrested Villeda in the house where we found Doctor Brennan," Booth told her, "you don't get much more proof than that."

"And is it possible that Mr. Villeda was unaware that Brennan was in the house? There was another man there. He could have been the one that was torturing Doctor Brennan. Mr. Villeda could have just been visiting."

"You and I both know that's a bunch of bullshit," Booth practically hissed.

"Ah, but I don't need to convince you, now do I, Agent Booth?" Marissa smiled confidently, "I need to just give the jury some kind of reasonable doubt," she received an angry glare from the FBI agent, "but, anyway, I'm here to ask Doctor Brennan something."

"Go ahead," Brennan chimed in, weakly.

"Mr. Villeda would like you to come visit him, so you can talk about the trial," Marissa told her.


	56. A Feeling That Shouldn't Scare You

**Thank you, everyone, for the feedback and all that good stuff that goes along with it. I don't know how many times I can say it, but I'm honestly so, so, glad that people are actually reading and enjoying what I write. xD**

**Sorry I haven't been updating once a day lately, the days are busy and hectic with school and stuff, then at night, I just want to sleep. xD I really am trying though. **

Chapter Fifty-Six:

"A Feeling That Shouldn't Scare You"

Brennan froze up at the words, looking like a deer caught in headlights at the request. There was nothing she wanted to do less than go talk to Villeda, especially when things were finally starting to get better, not only between her and Booth, but between her and everyone else as well. She was no longer having nightmares every single night, even though she hadn't slept through the night since the abduction, and she was actually able to talk to her other friends without getting nervous or irrationally afraid. Talking to Villeda now would blow that all to hell.

"I-I have work to do," she stuttered, standing quickly from her computer chair and grabbing her lab coat, sliding it back over her shoulders.

"You didn't look very busy when I walked in here," Marissa commented, watching the anthropologist curiously as she buttoned her lab coat, her eyes looking far away, as if she just wanted to disappear.

Booth's jaw hung slightly open in shock at the lawyer's words, baffled that she would try to turn this around and make Brennan look like the villain in all this.

"I was on break, but, now I have to get back to work, I'm, very busy," Brennan's voice was low and dazed sounding as she quickly pulled the door to her office open and left, without even acknowledging Booth or attempting to explain her lame 'work' excuse.

Marissa looked amused when Brennan practically ran away at the mention of Villeda, figuring she was afraid to see him because she knew he was innocent, even though, in reality, she was afraid to see him for the exact opposite reason. Booth couldn't stand the smug look on Marissa's face when she scared Brennan away, and wished she was a guy, so he could just pop her right in the eye.

"You have no idea what she's been through this past week and a half," Booth's voice was low, the harshness of his tone taking the lawyer by surprise, "you see those bruises on her? They were ten times worse a few days ago. How can you even pretend you don't see that she's clearly a victim of abuse?"

"It's very obvious that she's a victim of abuse," Marissa shrugged, "the question is abuse by whom," her eyes got a sudden spark in them, as if someone flicked some sort of a switch in her mind, "how about you, Agent Booth? Why shouldn't I assume it's _you_ abusing Doctor Brennan? Most women who are abuse victims are abused by their boyfriends."

Booth took a step closer to her, his brown eyes darkening until they were practically black at the lawyer's question.

"I would _never_ hit a woman," his voice was rough, "ever. Especially not Bones."

"Give me one reason why I should believe you," Marissa challenged.

"Because if I hit women, you'd have a black eye right now," the way he was looking at her as if he wanted to strangle her and the tone of his voice, made Marissa slightly nervous, "now if you'll excuse me, I need to go find Bones and talk her down," he stepped away from her and put his hand on the doorknob, looking back over his shoulder at her one last time, "you feel like you won something, when all you did was do more damage to an already broken person. I hope you're proud of yourself."

He left the door open when he left the office, so Marissa could leave as well. She waited until Booth was away from the office though before she left, not wanting to set him off again by following close behind him, since she was feeling a little intimidated by the FBI agent, who looked like, with one more word, he could snap. Hodgins was peering into his microscope when Booth passed him. He looked up, going to say a quick hello to his friend, but quickly bit back his words, stopping himself when he saw that Booth was angry. Booth was one of those people who, when he was angry at one person, lashed out at the world. The 'squints' all knew that, and knew, when he looked mad, to just let him go where he wanted to go without questions.

Booth stormed through the Jeffersonian, not caring who was looking at him, until he reached limbo, where he knew he'd find Brennan. Sure enough, Brennan was leaned over a table with a finished skeleton, and had a femur in her hand, examining it throughly, completely ignoring Booth, who she heard enter the area.

"Bones," his tone was still sharp, not because he was angry with Brennan, but because he was just mad at the whole situation, "talk to me."

"I wasn't trying to be amusing when I said I was busy," she told him, setting the bone down in it's proper place.

"Would you look up from Skeletor for a minute and talk to me?" He asked.

"Middle aged," she commented, ignoring her partner completely by this point.

"Bones..."

"Pelvic structure indicates a male."

"Bones!"

"No signs of trauma to the skull."

Booth stepped next to her, putting a hand on her forearm to try and stop her from picking up another bone once she set the skull down.

"Get away from me, Booth," she snapped, sharply, taking him by surprise.

"Bones, we need to talk about this," he wasn't angry with her for snapping at him, since he knew she was just on edge after what happened in her office.

"I'm busy," she muttered, feeling his hand stop her once again when she reached for a femur. She turned on her heel to face him, her blue eyes practically burning his skin when she glared at him, "get your hands off of me, Seeley. I'm serious."

"What the hell is your problem?" Booth asked, surprised by her sudden hostility towards him.

"What's _my_ problem?" She asked, stepping closer to him, only to have him take a step back, "my problem is, that no matter what I do, none of this is ever going to stop. Villeda will always be in my life, because he'll always be in my memories to torture me all over again. As if he didn't torture me enough for the four or five days he kept me locked in that basement. He wins, no matter what, and he knows that. As long as I'm alive, that bastard wins. Because he knows he's controlling my life, and he loves it. He loves the fact that I can't do anything without thinking about him, that _you_ can't even touch me without reminding me of him. He loves the fact that I can't even sleep through the night anymore. He loves the fact every morning, when I wake up, for just a split second, I'm afraid that I'm back in that basement. He controls my life and he knows it, Booth!"

"Bones, relax," his tone was soft, attempting to calm her down.

"Don't tell me to relax, Booth!" She snapped, placing her hands against his chest to push him gently away from her, before turning around to place her hands on the table with the skeleton, leaning her weight forward, "please, just go away. I want to be alone."

"I'm not leaving you alone when you're like this," he said, stubbornly.

"What do I have to do to get you to just leave me alone?" Brennan begged, squeezing her eyes shut as she leaned against the table, "Do I have to beg? Tell you I don't want you here? Because I will if that's what it comes down to."

Booth looked slightly hurt when the words left Brennan's mouth.

"You really don't want me here?" He asked, unsure as to why she didn't want to be near him all of the sudden.

"No," Brennan whispered, knowing good and well that her words were absolutely false, "I don't."

"You're lying," he accused, stopping himself before he could go any further, since he knew that getting defensive and yelling back at her wasn't going to solve anything, "Bones, I'm begging you, don't push me away. Let me help you with this."

"There's nothing you can do, Booth," she lowered her voice, feeling the all too familiar feel of tears stinging in her eyes, "you've been trying, but there's just, nothing you can do. I'm never going to be the same Temperance Brennan I was last month, or last year. I'm going to be this traumatized disaster for the rest of my life, and it's all because of Villeda."

"Not if you let me help you," he told her, taking a step closer to her once more, "stop trying to shut me out and let me help you, Bones."

"I'm not _trying_ to shut you out!" She snapped, whipping herself around to face him, "I can't help it. It's not anything you're doing wrong. It's me. I'm damaged goods, Booth, and you should be with someone who can give you what you need and rightfully deserve."

"What I need is what _you_ give me, Bones," he was confused as to why she didn't feel like she was good enough for him all of the sudden, "_you're_ good enough for me. _You_. Temperance Brennan. And you know that. You've got an ego bigger than D.C. itself."

"I'm not joking, Booth," she said, looking up into his eyes, "it would only be logical for you to want to be with someone who you could actually enjoy spending time with, as opposed to feeling like you have to fix them. We can't even engage in intercourse. I'm sure you need a release by now."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I can wait?" Booth asked,"I don't base our relationship off of how much sex we have. That's not what matters."

"It's not a matter of waiting," Brennan huffed in aggravation, "I know, physically, I'll be able to, eventually, but it's the question of whether I'll enjoy it or not. I don't like being touched anymore. What if that's permanent? What if things that involve physical contact are just not desirable to me anymore? What if we make love and I just don't like it?"

"You're blowing things way out of proportion, Bones," Booth touched her arm gently, silently relieved when she didn't make any motions to pull away, "that's not going to happen. Think about when we kissed in your bedroom a few nights ago. You liked that. So why wouldn't you like sex?"

"I'm afraid it'll be too much," she admitted, ashamedly, "too much physical contact, too much closeness, too much emotion. I'm afraid I won't be able to handle it. What if we start making love, and I just, lose it?"

"What do you mean?" Booth asked, not entirely sure of what she meant by 'lose it'.

"What if I just, can't deal with the closeness and the feelings?" She asked, finding it difficult to explain what she was afraid of, since she wasn't even entirely sure.

She'd thought about being with Booth a lot since the day they almost went all the way, after Booth went to talk to Caroline about the trial, and Brennan talked to Sweets about what she needed to do to get past this wall. She remembered the overwhelming emotions making love with him elicited. The sound of their panting breaths mingling, and the small sounds each of them made. Every little whimper, moan, grunt, mumble of the other's name audible, due to the fact that their faces were so close together. The feeling of burning skin against burning skin, the rush of emotion she felt when they reached their peak together. Those memories frightened her, since she wasn't sure if, in her fragile state, she'd be able to handle that kind of emotion, and that kind of intensity.

"You'll be able to, it'll just take time," Booth promised her.

"You don't know that," Brennan mumbled.

She gasped slightly when Booth took her face between his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes, since she'd been avoiding eye contact with him for the majority of their conversation. Without asking for permission, he leaned in and claimed her lips with his, kissing her softly, but full of heated passion. Brennan could already feel her heart rate increase from just their lips connecting, feeling pathetic when even the smallest of actions managed to arouse her.

"Feel that?" Booth asked, when he disconnected their lips, but kept their faces close.

Brennan enjoyed the feeling of his breath touching her lips when he spoke, and only nodded silently in response to his words.

"That's how I know you'll be able to handle it. Because that's a good feeling, not a bad one. A feeling that shouldn't scare you."

"It's not the kissing that scares me," she assured him, "it's the rest of it."

"Forget about the rest of it right now, Bones," he was growing slightly frustrated with trying to explain the fact that they could take it slow to her, as he pulled away from her face and let go of her, "just, push that from your mind."

Brennan didn't respond, just pulled her gloves off and tossed them in the trash, before turning back to Booth.

"Are you going to make me go talk to Villeda?" She asked.

"No, Bones, I'm not," he pressed a feather light kiss to her forehead, "but I'm gonna make you come somewhere with me."

"Oh yeah?" Brennan asked, trying her best to smile, since she was still fairly upset from everything that went on only a few minutes prior, "Where?"

Booth reached into his coat pocket and pulled out two long slips of paper, handing them to her. Brennan realized they were plane tickets only after her handed them to her, and thumbed over the name of the state at the top.

"Colorado?" She asked, "What is the significance of Colorado?"

"Are you kidding me?" Booth laughed, taking one of the plane tickets when she handed it to him, "Colorado has some of the best skiing and snowboarding hills in America. Jared has a vacation home there, just a little shack basically, and he said I could use it. I figured now would be a good time to take him up on that. You need a little vacation to unwind before the trial."

"I would have to advise against vacation before the trial," Brennan pointed out, "won't Caroline think we're trying to evade the law if we go away right before the trial starts."

"We'll only be gone for a week, at the most," Booth shrugged, "and I'll tell her. Come on, Bones. What could be better than just, getting away from here? Even if it's only for a few days?"

Brennan bit her lip in thought, glancing from the plane ticket to Booth, then back to the plane ticket, contemplating whether or not taking a little time to just relax and get her mind off of everything would help, or make things worse when she returned.

"I'll go to Colorado with you, Booth," she concluded, having to smile a little when she saw the happiness and relief on his face, "but only if you let me upgrade this seats to first class."


	57. I Love You Too, Andy

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who's been reading and reviewing, or even just reading and enjoying. And another thank you for being so patient. I love the fact that you guys don't make me feel rushed. =]**

**Who else loved tonight's episode? **

Chapter Fifty-Seven:

"I Love You Too, Andy"

"Mmm," Booth mumbled sleepily when he felt Brennan's lips against his shoulder, the feeling of it making him more sleepy as opposed to waking him up, which was what she was aiming for, "what time is it?"

"Early," Brennan spoke against his skin, "but you have to wake up."

"Why?" He complained.

"Because we're going to miss our flight if you don't," she stopped and rested her chin against his shoulder, blowing a puff of air up to push a piece of hair out of her face.

Booth groaned something inaudible into his pillow, making no effort to start getting out of bed. Huffing lightly, Brennan shook his arm gently.

"Come on," she coaxed, hearing him make another small noise of frustration into the pillow when she shook him, "you can sleep on the plane."

"I can't sleep on planes," he reminded her, "and since when are you so excited to go to Colorado anyway?"

"Well, after thinking it over," she started, tracing her fingers absent mindedly over his arm as she pressed her chin into his shoulder, "I came to the conclusion that, even though I'm not really big on winter sports, taking a vacation with you will be enjoyable."

"I'm glad you decided spending time with me would be fun after you thought about it from a squinty standpoint. Thanks a million, Bones."

"I never doubted that spending time with you would be fun, I'm just not very coordinated, so I probably won't be any good at skiing."

"You? Uncoordinated? I would have never guessed."

Brennan let out a small breath of irritation at her partner.

"Can you just get up please?" She asked, not having the patients, nor the energy, to argue with him just then, "I have to start getting ready, and I know if I go get changed now, there's a very slim chance that you're actually going to be out of this bed when I'm finished."

Booth glanced at the digital clock that was set on the night stand, groaning when he saw how early it was, seeing the actual time only making him more tired. He lifted his head and turned it slightly to look at Brennan out of the corner of his eye, from where her chin was propped against his shoulder, their cheeks brushing together when he turned.

"It's so early," he complained.

"We have to be on the plane by six thirty. It won't take long to get ready, and the airport is close, but between security and checking our bags, it may take a little while," she explained, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, "come on, you'll be able to sleep on the plane. You're not going to be stuck in coach this time."

"Oh yeah," Booth laughed lightly at the mention of first class, "I almost forgot. I'm a first class man now. I'm one of the important people."

"Is that what you've been telling yourself?" Brennan asked playfully.

"Hey, in first class you're treated like royalty. The seats recline, all the way back, and no one can complain, and you get those little blindfold-y things."

"Sleep masks?"

"Tomato, tomahto, Bones. The point is, my seat's gonna recline. And with reclining seats, I can die a happy man," Booth observed the way her expression fell when he talked about dying, mentally biting his tongue, "sorry. That came out wrong."

Brennan rubbed the skin of his upper arm softly before pushing off it with her palm to sit up straight, slipping out from under the covers. Booth sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes before he looked at her, trying to figure out if she was mad at him about the whole dying comment or not. He went with 'not' when she pulled a t-shirt out of his dresser and tossed it at him, a small smile present on her face.

"Get dressed," she said, opening the dresser drawer that she'd taken over for herself, pulling out jeans and a plain long sleeved shirt.

Booth pushed the covers dramatically off of his lower body, standing up and slowly making his way to join Brennan at the dresser. Brennan, knowing what he needed, opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a pair of jeans, handing them to him.

"Thanks, Bones," he mumbled, still feeling only half awake as he stripped off the pajama pants and quickly replaced them with the jeans she'd handed him.

Brennan nodded and eyed him up and down, as if she were waiting for something more.

"What?" Booth asked.

Brennan simply used her index finger to gesture for him to turn away from her, holding her shirt and bra in her hand. With a small huff, Booth turned around, shaking out his shirt before he started to put it on.

"You know, Bones," he started, pausing when he pulled the shirt over his head, unaware that Brennan was watching as the muscles in his back flexed with the movements, "I've seen you without your shirt on before. You don't have to make me turn around."

"I find it fairly uncomfortable when men watch me get dressed," Brennan shrugged, as she slid the straps of her bra over her shoulders, "not saying you're just another man," she quickly added in, reaching behind her, cursing under her breath when she couldn't find the clip.

Booth turned back around once he was sure she was covered, gently taking the straps of material from her hands so he could clip the back for her.

"Thanks," she said, her voice soft as she pulled the long sleeved shirt on.

Booth turned her around by her shoulders once her shirt was on, so she was facing him.

"I'm sorry," he apologized for the bra, "did you not want me to do that?"

"No, Booth, it's perfectly fine," she assured him, "you were only being helpful, not trying to, 'sneak a peek', as Angela would put it."

"Have you been hanging out with Angela again?" He asked, curiously.

"We had lunch together a few days ago," Brennan informed him, "and once we return from vacation, we're going to have a girl's night. Although, I'm not entirely sure what people do during a 'girl's night'. It sounds like just a bunch of single woman going out to drink and look for a mate to engage in a one night stand with."

"Bones," Booth complained at her bluntness, "that's not what a girl's night is."

"How many one night stands have you taken part in?" Brennan asked, seeing his cheeks flush an almost scarlet color, "I myself have engaged in a couple."

"Okay, switching topics now."

"It's okay to be open with me, Booth. Everyone has one night stands."

"Is it the 'switching' part or the 'topics' part that you're not getting?"

"Fine," Brennan was slightly annoyed that he wouldn't talk about this with her, picking up her duffle bag of clothes for the week and putting it over her shoulder, "oh, and Booth? Sorry to pop your bubble," she misused the phrase 'burst your bubble', "but they don't give out sleep masks unless it's an overseas flight."

* * *

"You know, that's just stupid," Booth commented, getting back on the sleep mask subject, even though it was already almost two hours later, as they ducked under the overhead to get into their seats and prepare for the four hour plane ride, "So what? Just because it's not an overseas trip, a guy can't want to get a few hours of sleep?"

"Booth, calm down," Brennan said, sitting in the seat by the window, tucking her carry-on under the seat in front of her, "you'll fall asleep anyway. Your body only got a few hours last night, so it shouldn't be too difficult. And besides, as soon as you sit in your reclining seat, you're going to forget about the sleep mask anyway."

Booth grumbled something under his breath before he sat down in his seat next to Brennan.

"Ah," he sighed when he felt how much more leg room there was than in coach, "so much better than coach."

"I haven't flown coach in years," Brennan told him, "I would agree with you, but I don't really remember what coach is like."

"Because you, Bones, are rich," he reminded her, reclining his seat all the way back, so he was laying almost flat, groaning in approval as he closed his eyes, "I make money the old fashioned way, and use it to, you know, buy food and pay for my house."

"I buy food and pay for my house as well," she assured him, turning her head to look down at her partner, "besides, you should be grateful you have a wealthy partner, who is more than willing to share her fortune. I could have easily upgraded myself and left you in coach."

"Bones, I'm gonna give you the money for that."

"That won't be necessary."

"Yes it will. _I'm_ taking _you_ on vacation. There's no way I'm letting you pay for the plane tickets. It's unethical."

"Booth, chivalry has been dead for centuries," she reminded him, as he took her hand and kissed her palm affectionately, pressing soft kisses to the pads of her fingers afterwards, "it's acceptable for me to pay for something. I really don't mind."

"Bones, the guy pays," he told her, speaking against her skin as he repeated the process, "it's like the unwritten rule."

"Booth-"

"Excuse me, sir," the flight attendant cut Brennan off to speak to her partner, "I'm going to have to ask you to put your seat up until we're up in the air. It's for safety purposes."

"Oh, right, safety purposes," Booth mumbled as he put his seat back up, not letting go of Brennan's hand in the process.

The flight attendant looked at Brennan with a quizzical expression for a moment, before her face seemed to light up, as if something clicked in her mind.

"Temperance Brennan?" She asked.

Brennan glanced from Booth to the flight attendant standing over them.

"Yes, hello," Brennan responded.

"Hi," she sounded a little too enthusiastic, "I'm Claire Brian, I'm a huge fan. I've read all of your books," she took notice to the badge hooked onto Booth's jeans, "Oh! This must be Agent Andy. Well, not really Agent Andy, but the person you based him off of."

"No, this is my partner, Seeley Booth, Agent Andy and Booth are two completely separate people," Brennan responded, quickly, "I don't really understand why people think Andy and Booth are the same person. The character is not even based off of Booth."

"Oh, well, I just saw the FBI thing and assumed, you know, and plus, the way you described Andy's appearance made him sound similar to your partner," Claire admitted, glancing at her watch, "oh, I have to hurry or we won't take off on schedule. It was nice meeting you both."

Booth gave the flight attendant a small wave as Brennan said goodbye as well, watching as she disappeared behind the curtain and into coach. Booth smiled a cocky smile once she was gone and looked at Brennan with confidence.

"Andy is so me," he told, rather than asked, her, "you just flat out lied to that poor girl."

"Andy is not you," Brennan insisted, "just because you're both FBI agents, and you both have dark hair and warm and assuring brown eyes, does not mean he's you."

"Bones, you and I both know that he's me, so why don't you just save us both the time and energy and admit it."

"I will not admit to something that isn't true."

"Because you're stubborn."

"I am not stubborn," Brennan stood her ground, looking over at Booth seriously, seeing the mischievous expression on his face, "you're not going to let this go for the rest of the flight, are you?"

Booth shrugged.

"Depends on how I feel," he answered, having to smile as he spoke, "I still haven't decided on that one."

Brennan drew in a breath and let it out in a long sigh, leaning her head back against her seat, as she mentally cursed herself for not leaving Booth back in coach.

* * *

"Psst! Bones!" Brennan was awoken by the sound of her partner's voice in her ear, feeling him shaking her shoulder gently.

"Booth," Brennan complained, moving her hand so she could feel around for his face, pushing him away gently when her palm pressed against his cheek, "I'm trying to sleep."

"At least someone is," he said bitterly, "how do you do it?"

"Do what?" She mumbled sleepily, taking her hand off his face to move it back to it's original spot in her lap.

"Sleep on the airplane," he said, as if that were obvious.

"The same way you sleep in a bed, or on the couch," she answered simply, "close your eyes and relax. You can't sleep because you're too wound up."

Brennan, at this point, was awake, as she shifted to look at Booth with tired eyes. Feeling bad for waking her up when she stared at him with those tired puppy dog eyes, Booth reached over to touch her cheek softly.

"I get a little anxious on airplanes," he admitted.

"Because you can't sit still. Sitting still makes you nervous," Brennan closed her eyes once his hand touched her cheek, purring subconsciously at the feeling.

"I can sit still," Booth assured her, "I just don't like to."

"Mhm," Brennan purred incoherently, his soft caresses to her cheeks lulling her slowly back to sleep.

Booth laughed lightly at how she could go from so alert and rational to half asleep in less than five seconds. He leaned over to press a feather light kiss to her lips, hearing her make a tiny noise of surprise when their lips connected, her eyes fluttering open as she cupped the side of his face gently, running her fingers over the present stubble.

"Now _this_ is first class," he commented, nuzzling softly into the crook of her neck, closing his eyes as well, "leg room, reclining seats, and laying close to my Bones."

"Don't be melodramatic, Booth," she laughed lightly, sliding her hand up his face to run her fingers through his hair, "and I'm not _your_ Bones. I'm not a collector's item."

"Shh," he hushed her, feeling her prop her head against his, "you're my Bones."

"I'm Temperance Brennan," she rested her cheek against his hair, closing her eyes once more, "Doctor Temperance Brennan."

"You're mine," he mumbled into her neck, his lack of sleep finally catching up to him.

"Booth, knock it off," she complained, when he stated how she was his like she was a piece of property.

"I'm sorry, baby."

"For the last time, don't call me baby."

"Hmm?"

Brennan sighed at how all over the place he was in his half asleep stage.

"Nothing," she whispered, turning her head slightly to kiss the top of his.

Booth made a small noise of appreciation when she kissed his head. He waited a few minutes before he spoke again. At this point, both of them were practically asleep, barely aware of what they were talking about.

"Mmm," Booth mumbled, "I love you, Bones."

Brennan rubbed her cheek against his hair, since that was where it was resting.

"I love you too, Andy," she used the name of his altar.

Booth mumbled something inaudible, his conscious mind not even noticing the little name flip as they fell asleep together, not even the little bit of turbulence the plane started to experience a few minutes later waking them up.


	58. And They Call Me the Cocky One

**A/N: Yay, finally I post a new chapter. xD I was pretty busy doing birthday stuff for me this weekend, since my birthday's tomorrow (Happy Birthday to Me xD) so I've been pretty caught up the past couple days. And just to fill you all in, I got season five on DVD for a gift =] I was a happy little girl. **

**Ahem, anyways, this chapter's just pure fluff, so hopefully you all like. =]**

Chapter Fifty-Eight:

"And They Call Me The Cocky One"

Brennan was carrying the supermarket bags of food that they stopped to get on the way there, since there was no food in Jared's vacation home yet, as, Booth was dragging their luggage through the thick layer of snow that was already on the ground.

"Is it always snowing here?" Brennan asked, as Booth reached into his coat pocket, digging around for the key.

"Not always, but it snows a lot," he shrugged, pulling the key out of his pocket and putting it in the lock, "why?"

"Are you being literal, Seeley Booth?" Brennan asked, surprised by their swap in roles, "that's uncharacteristic."

"Maybe you're rubbing off on me," he smiled charmingly at Brennan as he turned the doorknob and pushed the door to the little winter cabin open, glancing inside, "ah, look at this. Home sweet home."

"It's a little small," she commented, bringing the several bags of food and snacks into the kitchen, where she put them on the counter.

Booth rolled his eyes playfully at her complaints on the house's size.

"It's a winter cabin, not a five star hotel," he reminded her, setting their bags down by the door before he followed her into the kitchen, "it's homely."

"I believe you mean _homey_," Brennan corrected him, "homely means unattractive, while homey, which is what I think you meant, means cozy and comfortable."

Booth rolled his eyes at her constant need to correct people.

"Because it really makes that much of a difference."

"I'm only trying to help so you don't sound like a fool when you use the wrong word."

"Great, thanks, Bones. Now I don't _sound_ stupid, I just _feel_ stupid."

"People often feel unintelligent around me. It's not just you."

Booth didn't respond, since he knew she wasn't trying to be hurtful, that was just the way she was. There came a point when he just didn't let the things she said phase him anymore. When she'd talk about how he wasn't as smart as her, and about how she was more wealthy and lead a more satisfying life, it used to bother him. But after a while of working with her, he realized that it wasn't just him. She did it to everyone.

Brennan could tell by the way he just ended the conversation there, starting to unpack some of the snacks and put them in the cabinets, that she had offended him. It made her frustrated with herself when she said things that were hurtful to him, because she didn't want his feelings to be hurt, she just honestly didn't see anything wrong with what she was saying. Wanting to make things better, she spoke again.

"You know 'Seeley' means 'fortunate'," she informed him, taking a bag of chips out of the shopping bag to help him stock the cabinets.

Booth glanced at her, stuffing the Oreos in the cabinet with the rest of the junk food.

"That's kind of ironic," he muttered, his mind immediatly going to his childhood when she brought up the fact that his name meant fortunate.

"Why?" Brennan asked, puzzled by his logic.

"I'm not exactly fortunate," he reminded her, putting the boxes of strawberries in the refrigerators, which was already plugged in when they got there, and turned on when the flicked the switch for the electricity.

"Sure you are," Brennan encouraged, putting her salad items on the opposite side of the fridge as the fruit, "you have very symmetrical features, a kind heart, a beautiful and exceptional progeny who admires you. Why wouldn't you consider yourself fortunate?"

"Must we go over the entire story of my old man again?" Booth asked.

"Oh," Brennan mumbled, the trauma of his childhood seeming to have slipped her mind, "so maybe you weren't so fortunate back then, but you are now. I'd say you turned out pretty well considering your past."

Booth laughed lightly and half smiled at her attempt to cheer him up.

"You think?" He asked.

"Of course," she nodded, "better than Jared anyway."

"No, Jared's a good kid. Sure, he gets himself into trouble sometimes, but deep down he really is a great guy."

Brennan shrugged, disagreeing with his statement. Sure, Jared was nice, but by no means was he 'good', constantly getting himself into trouble, especially with drinking. She knew he was only saying it though because he never wanted to outshine Jared. He always let his little brother have the limelight.

"If I had to choose who I believe turned out better, I would choose you," she said.

"That's because you have a bias opinion," Booth laughed, getting that playful sparkle back in his eyes, "I'm the guy you love. Jared's just the guy you love's brother."

"Even before we were intimately involved I thought you turned out better than Jared," she said, "you're objectively more successful than he is, so far. You both still have many years ahead of you."

"So I won't get to know if I turned out better than Jared until I'm dead?" He asked, "Well then when do I get time to brag?"

"Well you believe so strongly in afterlife," she reminded him, "according to your beliefs you should be able to brag in 'heaven'."

"Oh, no, no, no, I am _not_ getting into the religion argument with you again," he stopped that conversation before it could go there, "not when we're trying to relax and have fun."

"Speaking of having fun, what are we going to do today?"

"Today, you, Bones, are learning how to ski."

* * *

"These aren't very comfortable," Brennan complained, clunking towards the bunny hill in her ski boots, "and how are you going to teach me and ski at the same time?"

"Oh quit complaining," he rolled his eyes playfully, "and no, I'm not skiing right now. I will later. Right now, I just have to teach you. Once you get the hang of it I'll give you a little breathing room, or maybe we'll race."

"I won't be able to beat you in a race," she told him, "I have a steep learning curve, but not when it comes to athletics. You, however, pick up on things that involve physical activity very fast. I'm sure that's because you were an athlete in highschool."

Booth stopped when they were at the top of the bunny hill.

"Just put the skis on, will ya', Bones?"

Brennan laid her skis on the snow, stepping awkwardly into them once they were positioned just right, able to hear the boots click into the locks on the skis. Instinctively, her arms stretched out to keep her balance, looking down at the white snow underneath her skis.

"Can you give me my metal balancing rods?" She asked.

"They're called ski poles, and they're not to help you balance," Booth laughed lightly, "they're to help you pick up speed when you go down the hill, but you don't have to worry about that right now. These are for later."

"Booth, I can barely stand in these, how am I supposed to go down a hill?" Brennan asked, slightly annoyed when he wouldn't just give her the poles for support.

"Bones, chill," he laughed, setting his skis and both of their poles on the ground, standing behind her so he could instruct her on how to start skiing without falling, or crashing, or having any other kind of mishap, "I'm gonna help you. Now move your feet so they're just a couple inches apart."

"I don't know how to move in these."

"Just move like you usually would. You're making it harder than it needs to be."

Booth could already tell she was not going to make this easy. Rolling her eyes at his comment, Brennan did as he asked and spread her feet just a tiny bit apart.

"Good," Booth praised her, "now tilt them in so the front of your skis are touching, and they make a triangle-ish shape. When Parker learned how to ski from the ski instructor, he called it a 'pizza', so that's what we're gonna call it too. You do that when you want to slow down."

"I don't need food symbolism, Booth. I'm a mature adult. You can just call it a brake."

"Except here's the catch," he smiled when he proved her wrong, "it's not just a brake. At first, that's just how you're going to go downhill so you don't go too fast. Just tilt them a little further in so they're almost straight, but not quite."

"So an acute triangle?" She asked, positioning herself the way he asked.

"A small pizza," he corrected her, "like, a half a slice."

"I refuse to call it a pizza, Booth."

Booth let out a long sigh at how stubborn she could be.

"Fine, call it what you want," he let her win, since he didn't have the strength to argue with her over something so petty, "now, if you want to turn," he put his hands on his shoulders, feeling her jump slightly from surprise when he did, "bend your knees a little," he tapped the back of her knee gently with his, "and lean your weight on the side that you don't want to turn on. So if you want to turn left, lean your weight on your right side. You get it?"

"Yes, I think so," Brennan nodded confidently, "now when do I get to go downhill?"

"Slow down, we're getting there," he had to laugh at how impatient she was, "if you want to speed up, which I don't suggest you do until you start getting the feel for things, you move your skis closer together," Brennan listened but didn't move her skis, since she knew Booth was standing between her 'pizza', as he called it, "and if you want to slow down, or even stop, make your, triangle, wider."

Brennan nodded as Booth stepped aside so he was next to her.

"Think you're ready?" He asked.

"I think so," Brennan said confidently, "will it hurt if I fall?"

"Nah, I don't think so," Booth shook his head, "Parker fell and he said it was fun."

"Okay," she laughed lightly, "now give me a good push."

"Okay, now you're scaring me," he put his right hand back on her shoulder, "first of all, make your pizza a little wider, your feet are too close together. And second, I'm not giving you a 'good push'. I'm going to, very gently, push on your waist, _just_ to get you started."

"Well now you're just removing the thrill," she complained, making her 'pizza' wider when he asked her to, "what fun is skiing if I'm moving at an approximate speed of three feet per second? You said it doesn't hurt when you fall."

"It doesn't, but I know you, Bones. You'll find a way to swerve and crash into a tree or something, so just go slow for now. You can go a little faster once you start getting the hang of things, okay?"

"Fine," Brennan muttered, bending and straightening her knees just to get a feel for what it was like, "let's get this ball tumbling."

"_Rolling_, Bones," he shook his head at her misuse of the term, "it's 'get this ball rolling', not-you know, never mind."

Cutting himself off, he placed his hands on her lower back.

"Ready?" He asked.

"I've been ready for quite some time, it's you that's stalling."

"You know, I should really just give you a nice shove for that," he joked with her.

"Please do," she turned her head to smile at her partner suggestively, "I like to go fast."

"Oh, is that true, Doctor Brennan?" He returned the suggestive smile.

"Yes," she answered, "fast and inhibited. That's how I like it."

Booth chuckled awkwardly.

"Okay, I'm gonna push you now," he prepared her.

"You said that two minutes ago," she reminded him.

Without responding to her words, Booth gave her a gentle push, pushing with enough force to get her started downhill, but not enough that she would go flying.

"You can un-pizza a little," he told her, "but don't go totally straight."

Brennan listened and moved her feet in slightly, feeling herself start to gain momentum.

"Booth! Look!" She called excitedly, when she started to move faster, going at a pretty decent pace at this point.

"Wow, Bones! Talk about a steep learning curve," he admired how quickly she picked it up.

Brennan smiled confidently at his pride, bringing in her feet a little more, since she was feeling confident that she wouldn't crash. Little did she know, the hill got steeper there, and, before she knew it, she was going a little faster than she would have liked.

"Bones!" She heard Booth call to her, from the top of the small hill, "Slow down!"

"I can't seem to control my speed right now," she called back to him, her mind going completely blank on what she was supposed to do if she started going too fast.

"Pizza!" He reminded her.

"I'm trying!" Brennan complained, attempting to spread her feet again.

"Pizza, Bones! Pizza!" He called, seeing her only go faster as opposed to slowing down.

By the time she was able to get her feet into the 'pizza' that Booth was yelling about, she was close to the bottom of the hill, the sudden change in steepness throwing her off as her skis skidded out from under her. Her mind didn't have time to register the fact that she was falling before she was flat on the ground, feeling a dull pain in her tail bone.

"Ow," she complained, hearing Booth's frantic voice approaching her.

"Bones, you alright?" He asked, getting to her as fast as he could in his ski boots.

Brennan nodded, hearing her partner slide down next to her, kneeling in the snow by her side. She removed her grey winter hat to swipe a piece of hair out of her eyes with the back of her glove covered hand, since her palm was covered in snow.

"That was unpleasant," she told him, wiping her hand off on her snow appropriate pants.

Booth laughed lightly as he took the hat from her hand, putting it back on her head for her. He leaned down to kiss her cheek affectionately, his lips warm against her freezing skin.

"You had a good run," he encouraged her, "you did a good job, considering it was your first time."

Brennan traced her fingers over his jaw line, her gloves now wet from the snow. Without thanking him, she brought his lips down to hers, giving him a tender kiss on the lips.

"By the end of the day," she said, softly, "I'm going to beat you in a race."

Booth laughed and stood up, holding his hands out to help her up.

"You're on," he accepted her challenge, with a smile on his face.

* * *

"Forget about the fire for now," Brennan complained, since she was sitting on the small couch in front of the TV, which was broadcasting the Phillies' game, alone, "eat first. Then you can resume what you're doing."

After a long day of skiing, both of them were ready to just change into something comfortable, get the fireplace going to warm up the little house, and eat their dinner. The first part was already accomplished, now it was just the fire and the food that waited.

"Well I got it lit, but it just won't stay unless I keep poking at it," he complained, talking more to himself then it was to her, "maybe I should put more newspaper in."

"Booth," Brennan complained, rolling her eyes at his persistence, "if you stop touching it, it might start up again."

Ignoring her suggestion, Booth stuck the poker into the fire, moving the wood around until one of the logs ignited, setting pace for a steady roaring fire.

"Ah, there we go," Booth clasped his hands together proudly as he admired his handiwork, "would ya' look at that, Bones? Now _that_ is a perfect fire."

"Yes, it's very big," she attempted to satisfy him with the small compliment, "now will you come eat?"

"Now that my masterpiece is finished, yes, I will," he set the poker down next to the fireplace, smiling a Booth-y smile as he sat next to her, "whatcha' got for me, Bones?"

"Fried rice and orange chicken, same as always," Brennan said, handing him his container and a fork, "now which team am I supposed to cheer for?"

"Phillies, Bones, the ones in the red and white," he told her, taking a fork full of rice to put in his mouth.

They were quiet for a minute as they ate, the only sounds in the room coming from the TV. The sound of Brennan's voice spoke over the sports announcer after only a very short moment of silence.

"Now, the object is for this man to throw the ball so that this man can't hit it, and if he does that three times for three different people, they switch roles?" Brennan asked, wanting clarification on what was going on.

"Unless he throws it in the dirt, or to far on the outside or inside, then it's a ball, and if the pitcher, the guy throwing the ball, gets four balls, the batter, the guy hitting the ball, automatically goes to first base." Booth tried to explain in terms that she would understand.

"So then there's two men on first base?" Brennan asked.

"No, there's one guy on first. What are you talking about?"

"If the batter goes to first, then there's two men on first," she was confused as to why _he_ was confused.

"No, if someone's already on first, then they move to second, and if someone's on second, then they move to third, and if someone's on third, then they get a home run," he explained.

"That doesn't seem very fair," Brennan complained, "just because the pitcher doesn't know how to do his job the entire team is penalized?"

"Well that's just the way teamwork works, Bones," he shrugged, "think of what we do, for example. If you weren't any good at identifying bodies, and finding these little pieces of evidence in God knows where, then we wouldn't get any cases solved. Sometimes, when you work in a team, you have to think outside of what's best for you."

Brennan looked up from her food to look at her partner with questioning eyes.

"You don't think I appreciate you?" Brennan asked, "because I don't just think about me, Booth. I think about the two of us, as partners. My work is not just beneficial to me, it's beneficial to you, and the victim's families, and the rest of our team."

"I know, Bones, that was the point," Booth chuckled lightly, "if the FBI and I didn't have you to help us, cases wouldn't get done half as fast as they do."

Brennan smiled appreciatively, setting her food down on the small coffee table in front of the couch so she could touch her partner's arm.

"Well if you weren't a large, intimidating, well defined agent, the FBI probably still wouldn't get cases done as quickly as they do," she smiled, tracing her hand gingerly over his bicep, "you're important to them, Booth, even if they pretend you're replaceable. If you weren't valuable, they would have replaced you after you shot that ice cream truck."

"You don't gotta tell me twice," he smiled a cocky smile as he put a fork full of food into his mouth, her hands still wrapped around his bicep when he lifted it to eat, "I know I'm important to the FBI. I am one of the best in my field, in case you forgot."

"Of course I didn't forget," Brennan rolled her eyes playfully, laughing a breathy chuckle, "if you weren't, I wouldn't work with you."

"And they call _me_ the cocky one," Booth laughed.

"You are," Brennan smiled, her eyes looking slightly flirtatious, "you're the cockiest person I've ever met, Booth. But that isn't necessarily a bad thing. I find your confidence and prowess highly attractive. A man should be comfortable with himself, and you surpass that," she traced her hand slowly down the bicep she was holding, "not that you don't have a legitimate reason. Do you work on your arms, or do you just have naturally larger biceps than most males?"

Booth laughed awkwardly, looking down at Brennan, who didn't seem to find anything funny. In fact, she was just looking at him, as if she was waiting for an answer.

"Bones," he chuckled in embarrassment, "you're serious."

"Of course I'm serious," she glanced at him curiously, "why would that be a joke?"

"You really don't grasp the concept of discretion, or subtleness, do you?"

"I do, I just-"

Brennan was cut off when Booth shushed her, taking her back a bit.

"Sh! Sh!" He hushed her sharply, pressing his hand over her mouth, "bases are loaded and there's two outs."

"You shushed me for that?" Brennan asked, her words muffled by his skin.

"Shh," he dragged out the sound that time, keeping his hand over her mouth.

Brennan crossed her arms over her chest in annoyance, feeling his hand leave her mouth once she was quiet for a few seconds. She stayed quiet as she watched, trying her best to follow what was going on. There was two strikes and three balls, and she could see by the look on Booth's face that, that was supposed to be an intense moment. The batter took his time getting ready, fixing his gloves and swinging experimentally on the side. When he stepped up to the plate, the TV, along with the lights and the rest of the electronics, cut off abruptly.

"No," Booth groaned in annoyance, his voice startling Brennan in the dark, the only source of light being the fireplace.

"That was horrible timing," Brennan pointed out.

"Horrible and completely obnoxious," Booth sounded sincerely annoyed as he stood up, setting his half eaten food on the coffee table next to Brennan's.

"Do you want me to get the candles from under the bathroom sink for additional light?" She asked.

"Yeah, thanks, Bones," he thanked her in advanced as she started towards the bathroom, "and you know," he called to her, "without power we don't have any heat."

Brennan didn't respond as she pulled a few candles from under the bathroom sink, meeting him back in the living room. She set the candles around the room sporadically, trying to make sure there was light in the majority of the parts. Once she set the candles down, she stepped back in front of her partner, a small smile on her face.

"Well at least we have the fire," she pointed out, a smile toying at the edges of her lips.


	59. Can I Kiss You?

**A/N: I'm sorry I didn't thank you all for the feedback last chapter, it completely slipped my mind. Itdoesn't mean I don't appreciate it anymore, because I do, it's honestly just a result of how forgetful I am. xD So I'm thanking you all now, see? And thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday too. =] **

**Just a fair warning, don't be fooled by the chapter title, which sounds sweet and fluffy, because this chapter is actually a tiny bit angst-y. Just figured I'd be a nice author and give you all a heads up. **

Chapter Fifty-Nine:

"Can I Kiss You?"

The wind was howling outside as the snow fell relentlessly outside, the soft pitter patter of the light flakes against the windows making it sound much less brutal than it actually was. Brennan was peering out the window into the snowstorm, watching as the snow fell at a constant speed, not showing any signs of letting up any time soon.

"Bones, you're shivering," the sound of Booth's quiet voice behind her startled her a bit, as he wrapped his arms gently around her waist from behind.

"Booth, I'm," she paused when her teeth chattered a bit, "fine. The power's only been out for a few hours. It's not completely freezing in here yet," she leaned comfortably back against his chest, sighing deeply, "you're very warm," she commented.

"That's because I was in front of the fire and under a million blankets like any normal person would be," he laughed lightly, "while you're hanging out by the window in a thin long sleeved shirt, where the draft is ten times worse and there's no fire."

"Well you're wearing a t-shirt," she pointed out, "don't criticize my wardrobe choices when yours are worse."

"But I'm under blankets," he reminded her, "blankets that, if I remember right, I asked you to come share with me, and you, being you, said you didn't need them."

"Because I wasn't cold right then, now, admittedly, I am."

"I know you are. You're freezing."

He placed a kiss on her temple, holding her close to his body in an attempt to warm her up, at least to the point where her teeth weren't chattering anymore.

"Can you warm my hands up?" Brennan asked, not waiting for a response before grabbing his warm hands gently with her ice cold ones, the contrast like fire and ice.

"What do you want me to do?" Booth asked, wincing slightly at the temperature change on his skin.

"Just hold them," she requested timidly, feeling his masculine hands clasp around hers, holding them tight to help transfer his body heat to hers.

They stood in that position for a few minutes before Booth nuzzled her temple gently, getting her attention without having to speak.

"Come over by the fire and we'll share the blankets," he offered, "you'll get warm a lot faster that way."

"I don't want to," Brennan mumbled, looking at their hands, which were resting against her stomach together at the point, moving her head slightly to the right when he nuzzled her skin affectionately.

Booth pulled away slightly and looked at her with concerned eyes.

"Bones, what's up?" He asked, "This seems like more than just you being stubborn."

Brennan shook her head in response, pulling herself closer to her partner.

"Bones," he tried again, "what is it?"

Brennan kept her eyes focused on their hands, her mind going back to those four days she had been trying so hard to forget. She tried with all her strength to push the memories from her mind, but they wouldn't seem to go away that night. Since about an hour prior, when the house started to get cold from the lack of electrical heat, it was all she could think about, which was why she was attempting to distract her mind with the snowstorm.

"So cold," she whispered, in a barely audible voice, feeling her partner's thumbs stroke comfortingly over her knuckles when she finally spoke, "so cold, and so dark."

"Bones..."

"I just wanted it to stop," her voice was hoarse, "I didn't care how. I didn't care if someone found me, or if I died, or if they just got bored with me, I just couldn't endure the abuse anymore. It was so often. It must have been five or six times a day."

"Hey, Temperance," Booth whispered, letting go of one of her hands touch her face affectionately, tilting her chin up to look back at him, "you don't have to think about it, okay? Yes, right now, it's cold and it's dark, but it's not that. No one's going to hurt you here."

"I know," Brennan assured him, "I know you wouldn't, I just, almost can't help but think about it. Constantly. Like it's possessing my every thought. I just want to be able to lead a normal life again, the way I did before the abduction."

"It's gonna take time, but it'll happen," he promised, taking his finger off her chin so she had the freedom to look where she wanted to again, seeing that she didn't let her eyes leave his.

Brennan tugged on his hand softly, gesturing towards the fire and the blankets he had set up in front of if, a few on the floor for cushion and a bunch to wrap themselves in. Happily complying to her request, since he was starting to get pretty cold himself, Booth went with her to the fireplace, sitting down on the blankets for cushion with her before wrapping them both in several blankets, allowing her to sit close and share body heat as well under the big blankets. Shivering, Brennan pulled herself as close as she could get to Booth, propping her head against his chest as she traced aimless and invisible patterns on his arm.

"Warming up?" Booth asked, watching her fingers in their trails over his skin.

"A little," Brennan shrugged, taking a long pause before looking up at Booth again, "I think I want to, practice for the trial."

Booth looked down at her curiously, confused as to what she was getting to.

"How?" He asked.

"I want to practice telling my story," she said, seeming slightly embarrassed.

Booth realized, only then, that by saying that, it was her subtle, Brennan-ish way of telling him that she finally wanted, or felt comfortable enough, to tell him her story.

"Oh, sure, of course," he encouraged her, wondering if she was actually going to go through with it, or if it was going to be another one of those things where she started to open up, but then completely clammed up halfway through.

Brennan took a deep breath before she started, sounding a little unsure at first.

"Well, the last thing I remembered was when Garcia had me in that sleeper hold, and I was struggling for my breath while he, taunted me. He asked me where you were and why you weren't trying to help me. I wanted to tell him it was my idea to go out there alone, and you wanted to come with me, but I couldn't, simply because I couldn't breathe. Then, the next thing I remembered, I was waking up. Every part of my body was in pain, and I had scratches and cuts all over. I couldn't see them, because it was pitch black, but I could feel them," Booth ran his hands comfortingly over her back as she spoke, "I tried to find a way out, but there was no way, other than up the stairs, which I was in no physical condition to climb. That was when Villeda and Garcia first came down. I spit on Villeda's shoe and spoke to him like he was irrelevant. I thought I was better than him, I thought I was winning, until he," Brennan paused to swallow, her mouth feeling dry.

"It's alright, Bones," Booth encouraged her quietly, rubbing small, soothing, circles into her lower back, "you can stop there."

"He told me they killed you," she continued anyway, digging her fingernails into the palm of her hand when she spoke, "and I didn't believe them at first, but when I accused them of lying, they were going to bring me to see the body. Garcia had me in his arms, ready to bring me to see your dead body. I shouldn't have freaked out the way I did. I work with dead people for a living. But when it's someone you care for, it's different. If I was looking at your dead body, it would be completely different," she wiped away a few tears that trickled down her cheeks, "so I just held on to that damn St. Christopher medal every second of every day, and took the abuse like the strong, brave, woman I used to be. And as foolish as it sounds, that medal made me feel safe. If I'm going to be one completely honest, I felt like if I wasn't wearing that medal, they would have done, worse," she felt her throat tighten again, "I convinced myself that if I wasn't wearing it, they-they would have..."

Brennan's voice trailed as she looked up at Booth with pleading eyes, the tears stinging violently in her eyes as she tried to blink them back, failing miserably. The crying only lasted a few seconds before she was able to pull herself together.

"You're doing good," he whispered truthfully, "you don't have to practice it all tonight. You can stop whenever you need to."

Brennan sniffed and wiped the last of the tears that were on her cheeks.

"I want to stop," she whispered, slightly ashamed that she couldn't go any further into the story.

"Okay," Booth assured her that it was fine to stop there, "you did good, Bones. I'm proud of you. I'm so proud of you, baby."

"That whole 'baby' thing really is a terrible habit of yours," Brennan smiled weakly, attempting to break the tense feel of the moment, "completely undesirable."

"You're a pain in the ass," he laughed softly, his arm attempting to pull her closer, even though she was as close as she was going to get.

They 'snuggled', for lack of a better word, quietly together for a few minutes, just listening to the crackles of the fire, feeling the heat radiating from it. After a little while of Brennan just drawing invisible scribbles on Booth's arm, they motions seemed to form a bit of a pattern. Stopping after one patterned motion, she glanced up at him.

"Did you feel it?" She asked.

"Feel what?" He asked back at her.

"What I wrote on your arm."

"No, do it again."

Brennan moved her hand back up his forearm, starting to slowly trace the letters again.

S-e-e-l-e-y.

"You wrote my name," he chuckled, "Seeley."

"Fortunate," she reminded him, "although I'd say I'm the fortunate one."

"Because you're rich?" He asked, teasingly.

"No, not because I'm rich," Brennan rolled her eyes as his quip, "because, as frustrating as you think I can be, you still put up with me, and I'm grateful for that. I'm fortunate because you're so tolerant and understanding."

"Bones, it's not a big deal," he promised, "and I don't 'put up' with you. I like spending time with you. If I didn't, we wouldn't even be, us."

"What do you mean?" Brennan asked, the slightest bit confused by his choice in words.

"You know, we wouldn't be, a thing," he skated around using any words like 'together' or 'dating', "we would just be Brennan and Booth, not, this."

"This? As in a couple?"

Booth took a minute to process her question, thoroughly surprised by her word choice. Ever since the time she'd chewed him out in the car on Valentine's Day for saying they were boyfriend and girlfriend, he'd been extra cautious not to refer to them as anything that indicated a committed and monogamous relationship, even though both of them knew that was what they were.

"A couple?" Booth asked, just wanting clarification that he didn't mishear her.

"Yes," Brennan's eyes changed expression from confused to worried, "that's what we are, isn't it?"

"Well, I mean, yeah, but I just thought, you, you know," Booth fumbled with his words, not wanting anything to come out wrong, since she was feeling vulnerable just then, "I just didn't think you wanted to put labels on it. You're always Miss Anti-Label."

"There might as well be a label on it," Brennan shrugged, "we both know what we are. There's no point in denying it to one another. I stay overnight at your house almost every night, neither of us are seeing anyone else, and we've already admitted that we love each other. I don't see what pretending we're not a couple would accomplish."

Booth smiled and shook his hand through her hair in almost a friendly 'atta girl' gesture, feeling her duck away from his hand with a small laugh when her hair became disarranged.

"Bones," he smiled in admiration, pulling her tighter to his side, "you say things like that, and you don't know how amazing it sounds to me."

"It was only a statement, I don't see the appeal in it," she admitted, resting her hand against his thigh, as her gaze focused on the crackling fire.

"You're adorable when you get that clueless look on your face," he commented, moving his hand to touch her face gently, his fingers barely grazing her cheek, "your mouth opens a little, and your eyebrows furrow, just a tiny bit, in confusion."

Brennan blushed lightly and shook her head, slightly embarrassed by his observation. She watched the fire as she embraced the feeling of his fingers against her skin. Tearing her gaze away from the warm yellow heat, she looked up at her partner with quizzical eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" She asked, as if out of the blue.

"You're asking?" Booth laughed.

"Well I didn't just want to take you by surprise," she shrugged, a smile coming to her face, "but, judging by your reaction, I'm guessing you won't mind if I do."

"I wouldn't, but it's not gonna be a surprise now," he smiled back, "so go ahead, Bones, plant one on me."

Brennan touched his face softly, looking into his eyes, as if she were searching for something. Her fingers ran experimentally over the line of his jaw, the rough feel of his day old beard tickling the pads of her fingers when she did. After smoothing her fingers over his face for a few seconds, she used them to guide his head down to hers, pressing a kiss to his lips.

The kiss started out tender and gentle, their lips softly caressing one another's along with the occasional gasps of breath each took when their lips would separate, only to be claimed by the others again. Booth slid his lips from hers, trailing them softly down her neck, only to feel Brennan clasp his face gently back between her hands, pulling his lips back up to hers, not hesitating to part her lips invitingly. When she felt the warmth of his tongue against hers, she tunneled her fingers into his hair, pulling herself into his lap.

Once in his lap, things only moved further and faster. The kiss changed from soft and loving to passionate and sloppy, their mouths open against one another's, tongues mingling wetly against each other, the sounds of the cracking fire, their panting breaths, and sloppy, wet, kisses breaking the silence of the dark house. Her emotions getting lost somewhere in the kiss, Brennan pressed her hands to her partner's chest, pushing him gently so his back was against the comforter laid out on the floor in front of the fire, continuing their interaction laying down. Taking notice to their new position, Booth groaned softly into her mouth, his hands moving from where they were rotating between ruffling her hair and gripping her biceps softly to frame her face affectionately. Brennan shook her head, not approving of the embrace as she gripped his forearms gently, pulling his hands from her face. Booth was confused as to what was wrong, since she usually liked when he held her face when they kissed, only noticing why she didn't want him to when he felt her grab the bottom of his t-shirt, forcing it up to his shoulders with a less than gentle pull.

"Bones," he mumbled against her lips, "no."

"Yes," she mumbled incoherently, completely lost in his kiss as she tried to force his arms over his head to allow her to pull the shirt completely off.

"No," he said, stubbornly, separating their lips, since he knew, at the moment, the only way to get her attention would be to break their kiss.

Brennan made a small noise of disappointment at the loss of contact when he pulled away from her, having to wonder if she did something wrong. She respectfully tugged his shirt back over his abdomen, smoothing it down to where it was supposed to be, her fingers wrapping up in the bottom of the fabric as Booth gently moved her off him so he could sit back up.

"Why not?" She asked, her voice low as she sat up next to him, keeping herself close.

"You know 'why not'," he mumbled quietly, not buying into her clueless act.

"I'm asking," she whispered, tracing her fingers over his fabric covered chest.

"I'm answering," he responded, needing to let her know that it wasn't going to happen without hurting her feelings, "not tonight, Bones."

"I don't understand," Brennan looked up at him with questioning eyes, "why don't you want to make love?"

"I want to, Bones," he assured her, "of course I want to, but, I don't think you do."

"I think it's quite obvious that I do, considering I'm the one that asked."

Booth laughed lightly at how clueless she could be.

"I know you want to right now, but I don't know if that's because you're feeling vulnerable after you talked about everything, or if you're just trying to make the pain go away, or-"

"I'm not damaged, Booth," Brennan's voice raised when she cut him off, as she pushed off his chest to move away from her partner, sitting a few inches away as she looked at him with anger in her eyes, "and I'm not a baby. So stop treating me like one."

"Bones, I'm not treating you like a baby, or like you're damaged, I'm treating you like-"

"A victim?"

"No! I'm not treating you like a victim either. I just don't want you to rush into anything you're not ready for, that's all."

Brennan crossed her arms over her chest, staring into the fire so she didn't have to make eye contact with her partner, who she was very frustrated with at the moment.

"I'm not a liar, Booth," she finally said, after what seemed like an hour of silence.

"I never said you were," he was confused by her statement.

"You don't believe that I'm ready to engage in intercourse when I told you I am."

"That doesn't mean I think you're a liar, it just means I think you're, confused."

"I thought it through and came to realize that I'm ready."

Booth laughed.

"What, did you think it through for three seconds?"

Brennan drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh, frustrated that he wouldn't just listen to her and trust that she knew what she was doing.

"Come on, Bones, I was only trying to make light of all this," Booth nudged her gently with his elbow when he saw how serious she looked.

Brennan turned her head to look him dead in the eyes once again. She didn't give the usual light laugh at his small gesture, or even a smile for that matter. She just scooted close to him again, taking his face back between her hands to look at him seriously, letting him know that she was one hundred percent serious and sure about what she was saying.

"I want to make love to you, Seeley," she used his first name to emphasize the fact that she wasn't playing around even more, "I have, since we first initiated that kiss."

"I get it, Bones," he assured her, his smile fading when she spoke seriously, "but I really think we should wait and see if you still want to in a couple days. Just so you can be sure."

Brennan whined quietly, pressing her forehead to his shoulder in a combination of frustration and disappointment.

"I've never wanted anything this much," she admitted, her hands grabbing his to lace their fingers carefully together, "this feeling is quite foreign to me."

"It'll pass," he promised, "not the feeling ready and wanting to, but the overwhelming almost _need_ to do it."

"I don't think it will," she told him, sliding her forehead across his shoulder.

"Bones," he rolled his eyes slightly at her comment, since now she was just refusing to cooperate, "now you're just being stubborn."

"I don't care," she muttered.

"Come on, don't be like this."

"Like what? I'm not doing anything."

Booth sighed and tapped the underside of her chin gently, coaxing her to look up at him.

"Bones," he let go of her hands to frame her face carefully, "you're not making this any easier, you know. I don't want to be the reason you're upset."

Brennan ran her hands over his forearms, his skin warm under her cold hands.

"Then make me forget," she whispered, "I want to show you how much I've learned from you, " she paused when she leaned forward to press her forehead to his, "let me make love to you, Booth. I want to show you what a good teacher you are."


	60. You Have Me

**A/N: I'm really glad about the reaction the last chapter got. I was hoping you guys weren't too mad at me for leaving you on a cliff hanger like that. xD Like I've said before, I have an evil streak.**

**But along with that comes my nice streak, which is why you're even reading this. I made sure to get this chapter out to you guys fast, since it's 'the big moment', and the fact that I had the majority of it pre-written actually helped out a lot in the long run. So here you are. =] Please tell me how it came out, I don't want to disappoint you guys. =[**

**Also, just a heads up, I would probably rate this chapter a T+. I don't think most of you mind, but just incase you do, I wanted to make sure you all knew. Nothing graphic though. That's not me. =]**

Chapter Sixty:

"You Have Me"

Before he could object, Brennan's lips were back against his, encouraging them apart with her own. Booth only parted his lips for her for a split second before he realized what was going on, and pulled away from her again.

"Bones," he sighed, "I don't think we should-"

He was cut off when her finger pressed to his lips, dropping soft kisses over his face.

"Don't think," she whispered, "you're the one who taught me you're not supposed to think while you're making love."

"That's the problem," he closed his eyes when she left kisses sporadically over the skin of his cheeks, jawbone, forehead, chin, "we shouldn't be making love at all."

Brennan pulled her face back from his skin, her eyes locking with his when he opened them back up, as she looked into them seriously.

"Please, Seeley," she whispered, her voice lowering to a desperate tone, "I need this," she ran her hands over his face, "I need to move on."

Booth was the one to take her face between his hands this time, pulling them back close together. Brennan closed her eyes as they held one another's faces affectionately, their short breaths mingling as she attempted to lean forward to connect their lips again, his hands preventing the motion.

"I want you," she whispered in a breathy, barely audible voice, breathing in a sharp breath when he shifted onto his knees in front of her, not letting go of her face as their foreheads and noses pressed intimately together, "I need you."

Brennan's head instinctively tilted up to keep them pressed together when he kneeled in front of her, leaning back slightly so her lower back was pressed against the comforter on the floor. Booth ghosted his lips over hers, moving one hand from her face to her back to lay her down slowly and gently.

"You have me," he promised her, the vibration of his lips against hers when he spoke causing Brennan to shiver from something other than the cold.

Brennan leaned up to close the tiny gap between their lips, pressing them together fully. Neither of them hesitated to part their lips, allowing each other to explore their mouths, which was, by then, familiar territory to both of them. Her hands instinctively reached for the fabric of his shirt, pulling weakly in an upwards motion, attempting to show him what she wanted.

"Want," she moaned against his lips, unable to form a full sentence as she pulled on his shirt just a little bit more aggressively when he didn't pay any mind to her suggestion.

"Shh," he hushed her softly, breaking their kiss to allow her to pull the shirt gently over his head, tossing it aside as her fingers went to his now bare chest, "relax, Temperance."

Brennan ducked her head to press her mouth to his shoulder, moaning softly at the sensation of his toned body pressed tight to hers, one she hadn't felt in, what felt like, forever. She only picked her head up when she felt Booth sliding her shirt carefully up her torso, not wanting to pull it off too fast and freak her out. Able to tell what he was asking from his actions, Brennan placed her hands over his, helping him with the long sleeved shirt. Once the shirt was disposed of, she arched up slightly, touching her stomach to his, eliciting a surprised moan from her as her hands clutched onto his shoulders.

"Oh God," she whispered, feeling her abdominal tighten nervously at the skin-to-skin contact, as she moved to brush their skin together experimentally, "oh, Seeley."

"Are you okay?" He asked, hearing the slight panic in her voice when she moaned his name, receiving a scratch of her nails to his shoulder blades in response.

"Absolutely perfect," she promised, taking his hand to guide it down to her sweat pants.

Booth flicked absent mindedly at the waistband of her pants, pressing soft kisses down the line of her jaw, feeling Brennan tilt her head up eagerly in response, a small whimper leaving her lips as she urged his lips downwards.

"Relax," he reminded her, for the second time in only a few minutes, since she seemed to be getting slightly worked up again.

Brennan tried to listen to him, but couldn't control her overwhelming emotions when his lips moved lower, from her jawbone, to her neck, to the top of her chest.

"Booth, please," she moaned, unaware of what she was asking from him, his lips passing the black, lacy fabric of her bra to settle on the next patch of exposed skin, which was her stomach, "God, Booth, please."

"What?" He asked softly, pressing a kiss to each of her ribs as his lips explored the smooth, creamy, skin of her stomach.

"God, I," she gasped when his teeth scraped lightly over her rib cage, soothing the mark affectionately with tender kisses, the volume of her breathy moans increasing with the action, her eyes welling up with emotional tears, "you're-I-I'm-I want-"

"Sh, sh, sh," he hushed her again, his breath tickling her skin, causing her to arch her back slightly, "relax, baby. I've got you."

He moved back up so they were face to face once again, his index finger hooking onto the waistband of her sweat pants, starting to slide them gingerly down her legs. Brennan squirmed as she attempted to assist him, her hands pushing at the sweat pants as well. When hers were off, they moved to his, letting them join the small pile of clothes on the floor quickly as well.

Brennan could feel her chest burning, feeling slightly nervous from all the skin contact. It had been such a long time since they'd had that much skin contact, and the anxiety of being with Booth intimately for the first time since the attack along with her post traumatic stress, were making things ten times worse. She grabbed onto his hair gently, feeling his hands move back to her lower back, remembering her request of 'making love to him', indicating that she wanted to be on top. When he went to turn them over, he received a panicked whimper and a desperate cry, her lips yanking away from where they were pressed against the side of his throat.

"No, no! Not yet!" She pleaded, her nails digging into his skin when she spoke, "Not yet. I'm not ready yet. A few more minutes."

She whimpered softly when she felt his thumb stroke her cheek tenderly.

"Did you change your mind?" He asked, "We can stop if you did."

"No," Brennan promised, squeezing her eyes shut as she shook her head, "I want to, just, not yet."

"Temperance," his tone was flat as he leaned slightly away from her, feeling her clutch at the back of his neck to keep him close, "we can't do this."

"No, please," Brennan cried, shaking her head as the tears she was holding behind her closed eyelids became too much, to the point where she had to open them and let them out. She wasn't crying because she was scared. She was crying because she was frustrated with herself, with the fact that she still had that lingering anxiety, "please. Please don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised, wiping away some of the tears from her cheeks, "I'm just going to get my clothes."

"No," Brennan drew in a sobbing breath, "don't."

"Bones, I'm not having sex with you," he said, his tone just the slightest bit sharp, "I'm not gonna make things worse than they already are by taking advantage of you when you're not ready. It's obvious you're not ready to take that step, and that's completely fine with me."

"I am ready," Brennan sobbed in frustration, her hands trying to pull him back down to her lips, lowering her voice to a whisper, "don't make me beg, Seeley."

"Bones," he groaned in frustration.

"We've gotten this far," she pointed out, "I want to show you that I can make love too."

Booth rested his weight the forearm of his right arm, using his left hand to tuck a lock of Brennan's hair behind her ear.

"Are you sure?" He asked, skeptically.

"Yes," she breathed, reaching up to snatch his hand up with hers, lacing their fingers together, "I'm sure. I, want to be in control though."

Booth nodded at her request, unlacing their fingers as quickly as she had laced them, only so he could grab her waist ever so gently and turn them over, so she was above him.

"Booth," she breathed, her hands tracing gently down his chest to his abdomen, stopping where his boxers started, to run her hands over his soft, warm, skin, "you're beautiful."

"Thanks, Bones," he mumbled, slightly embarrassed by the less than manly compliment, "so are you."

Brennan could feel his hands slip up her back, unsnapping the clip of her bra on the way up, so when he ran them back down, there was no pesky clip and fabric to interrupt the contact of his hands against her skin. She moaned softly as the feeling of the clip giving way against her back, pressing her mouth back against his to kiss him sloppily. Unsure of what she wanted, Brennan only kissed him for a few seconds before sliding her mouth off of his, letting him kiss along the line of her mandible hotly for a few more seconds before tilting her head to claim his lips again. It was almost as if she couldn't get enough of him that day. She wanted his lips everywhere at once, even though she knew that way physically impossible.

"I want to make love to you," she moaned, when he pressed soft, open mouthed kisses down her neck.

Booth disconnected his lips from her skin to look up at her.

"Now?" He asked.

Brennan nodded.

"Now," she confirmed, helping him to rid them of the last pieces of fabric that separated them, feeling a nervous pain in the pit of her stomach.

When they first came together as one, Brennan whimpered at the feeling, her eyes fluttering between open and closed as her heart pounded against her chest. She leaned down and pressed her forehead against Booth's shoulder, hearing a small moan of anxiety rise from deep in her chest. It took her a minute before she could even speak, her nails scratching roughly up and down the skin of his chest, and her teeth marking his shoulder.

"S-Seeley," she whimpered, the tears stinging in her eyes while she held him close, her fingernails digging into the warm skin of his chest as he moved his hands to her waist to steady her, feeling her trembling violently out of anxiety in it's purest form.

"Shh," Booth hushed her gently, "it's okay, Bones. I'm right here. I've got you."

A small, sob like sound escaped her throat as she shifted nervously, picking up her head, but keeping her eyes focused on his chest, the slight movement eliciting a subconscious and barely audible groan from her partner, causing him to close his eyes and tilt his head back in pleasure.

"Bones," Booth's voice was hoarse, his thumbs caressing her hips as he held them, attempting to rock her slowly forward, only to hear a sob of protest, "it's just me. I've got you, baby. But you've gotta move, Bones."

"I-I can't, it's too much," Brennan sobbed, frozen in fear. She felt like such an idiot when she completely blanked out and froze, unable to make love to him the way she wanted to. They were already way past the point of no return, and there was no way they could turn back at this point, "I-I can't, Booth," the tears were rolling in rivers down her cheeks, "I can't."

"Yes you can," he urged her gently, his hands pressing firmly to her hips once again, not daring to try to move her again, since she didn't seem to like it the last time he did, "did you change your mind about wanting to be on top?"

Brennan shook her head, closing her eyes in embarrassment as she rubbed them, feeling Booth's left hand leave her hip and reach up to wipe the tears off her cheeks.

"It's too much," she whimpered, bracing her hands against his chest as he wiped her tears.

"It's okay, baby," Booth encouraged her, his voice soft, "just, rock your hips forward."

"I know," Brennan cried, mortified at the thought that now he thought she didn't know what she was doing, "I know how, I just, I can't. I'm sorry."

"C 'mere, Bones," he whispered, moving his hands to the back of her neck to urge her head close to his, their foreheads pressing together, "look at me," he encouraged her, her eyes fluttering open at the request, a small whimper escaping her throat when she looked into her partner's eyes, "trust me, baby."

Brennan kept her eyes from slipping closed as she found the power to finally move, the way he'd been asking her to, seeing Booth's eyes flutter closed before feeling a soft groan rumble in his chest.

"Seeley," Brennan whimpered, sliding her hands carefully up his chest, feeling completely overwhelmed by the pleasure she was feeling as Booth opened his eyes when he heard his name. She looked into his sultry brown eyes, taking notice to how they looked darker, and more lusty than before he closed them.

"I know it's scary," Booth assured her, his hands moving back to her hips to assist her at her slow start, "but I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

Brennan nodded, tears still trickling down her cheeks.

"I'm so scared," she sucked in a sharp breath, her heart hammering against her rib cage.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," Booth slid his hands gently up her body, which felt burning hot to the touch, to cup her face gently and tousle her hair more than it already was.

Brennan whimpered, closing her eyes and rubbed her cheek against the palm of his hand, leaning down to nuzzle helplessly against the base of his neck, her breath tickling the skin that was made damp by her tears.

"Please, Seeley," she whispered against his skin. Her terrified, quiet, voice would not have been audible if her face wasn't so close to his ear, "go slow, okay?"

"Of course," he whispered back, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose when she lifted her head to peek at him, "that's what making love is. We're gonna go as slow as you want."

Brennan let her eyes slip shut again, feeling him lean up to kiss some of the tears away from her cheeks as they started to rock very gently with one another, making love at her slow and steady pace. When they did finally make love, every touch was tender and gentle, every moan was filled with love and adoration for the other, every breath was in synchronization. The way he'd touched her that night was almost as if he was afraid he'd break her. His thumbs caressed her hip bones tenderly as they rocked slowly and delicately together, and she moaned his first name in complete love and pleasure. His mouth pressed gently to her shoulder as she traced her fingers carefully down his torso, her eyes slipping closed at the feeling. For that night, they were not Bones and Booth, the cocky FBI agent and the forensic anthropologist, they were Temperance and Seeley, the two people who were deeply and passionately in love. Brennan felt everything go blank, not because she was shutting down, but because she was so completely absorbed in the moment. She barely remembered their love making ending, the only thing she remembered vividly was the aftermath.

"S-Seeley, I-I-" Brennan couldn't finish her sentence as she buried her head in his chest from where she was laying all her dead weight on her partner, her chest heaving with silent sobs, not because she was hurt, but because she was overwhelmed.

"Shh, sh, easy, Bones, I've got you," he rubbed small comforting circles into her back as she cried into his chest, having to wonder if she was hurt or disappointed, since hysterical crying was usually not the best reaction to receive after making love, "that's all. See? You're fine, you're okay, Temperance."

Brennan moved off of him, turning over on her side so her back was to him, pulling the blanket up over her shoulders as she trembled violently. Booth turned his head to look at her, his chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths, deciding to give her the space she needed rather than comfort her. He started to feel like maybe it was a bad idea to coax her into this, shutting his eyes in frustration with himself as he covered his face with his hands. Only a few seconds later, he felt Brennan's body back against his, able to feel her overheated lips pressing ever so gentle kisses up his chest, causing him to gasp lightly and open his eyes to look down at her.

"Again," Brennan mumbled into his skin, kissing up his chest until she reached the base of his throat, not looking up at him, "again."

"Jeez, Bones, give a guy a chance to breathe," he laughed lightly, hearing a disappointed whine from Brennan as she laid her head comfortably against his chest, panting lightly, "see that?" Booth laughed softly, touching her fluttering heart, able to feel her chest rising and falling with her panting breaths, "you need to breathe too."

"I know," Brennan admitted, the tears finally stopping, replaced by a glow in the skin of her face and a light laugh, "I just find I enjoyed that very much."

"You didn't seem like you were enjoying it. You were crying the whole time," he pointed out.

"Because I was scared, but I still enjoyed it," Brennan said, as if that were obvious, "and if I could enjoy it while I was crying and shaking in anxiety, imagine how good next time will be."

_Next time_. The words put Booth at ease. For a few minutes, he wasn't sure if there would ever be a _next time_, considering her reaction when they finished.

"I love you so much, Booth," Brennan whispered, peeking up at him through her eyelashes, "I've, never felt this way about anyone else."

"Bones," he smiled endearingly, "I love you too."

"I know," Brennan nodded, "you were, so patient with me. So patient, and gentle, and considerate, and I'm grateful. Thank you, Booth."

"You don't have to thank me," he smiled down at her.

"I'm sorry for making you wait so long," she apologized, turning her head to press a single open mouthed kiss to his chest before resting her cheek back against it.

"Completely worth the wait," he assured her.

"I'm sorry I asked to be on top."

"We need a variety, don't we?"

"You like being on top."

"So do you."

"But you're one man I don't mind being controlled by, Booth," her smile was suggestive.

"Bones, I love you, and you know you drive me absolutely insane when you say things like that, but I'm pretty drained," his voice was apologetic.

Trying to comfort and pleasure Brennan at the same time proved to be more tiring than he was anticipating, but she understood that and took the blame for the lack of 'round two'.

"So am I," she admitted, covering her mouth with her arm when she yawned, "you always do an exceptional job at tiring me out."

Booth laughed at her comment.

"I am pretty good," he agreed.

"Cocky bastard," Brennan mumbled against his chest, already half asleep.

Booth had to chuckle at how she went from being wide awake to half asleep in only a matter of seconds. He kissed the top of her head softly, receiving a quiet purr in response.

"I'll always protect you," he whispered against her hair, "always."

"I know," she promised, in a sleepy voice.

"I love you, Bones," he kissed her temple.

"I know," she repeated, nuzzling weakly against his chest, "love you too."

"I know," he used her words, nuzzling the top of her head softly in response, "sleep."

Brennan simply nodded and relaxed her shoulders again, falling asleep quickly and peacefully, sleeping through the night for the first time since the attack.


	61. Trust Me, I Know

**A/N: Gotta make this really quick. Just a heads up, it might be a little bit before I can post again, because my laptop charger broke and I have to wait for my new one to come in the mail. =p Which is why I have to type quickly because it's going to die in like, three seconds. xD Also, excuse any mistakes, because I didn't have time to proofread throughly. 3 **

**And of course, thank you all for the feedback **

Chapter Sixty-One:

"Trust Me, I Know"

Booth could feel Brennan's auburn hair tickle against his skin when he felt her move, acknowledging her with a small, half asleep, sound when he felt her cheek settle back against his chest, her hands holding onto his sides. When he was almost back to being fully asleep, he came back into consciousness when he felt her pull the blankets around her arms, shivering slightly. He opened his eyes halfway to look down at her, her chin resting against his chest as she held the blankets tight around her arms.

"Cold?" Booth asked, his voice startling her a bit.

"No," Brennan answered, unsure if she was actually cold or not, since her body felt cold, but she wasn't uncomfortable, "I think you're doing an effective job at keeping me warm."

Booth stroked her cheek softly, cupping the side of her face in his hand as he brushed her messy hair away from her skin. Taking the action as an invitation, Brennan scooted up to press her nose to his, her hands raking through his hair before slipping down the back of his neck to hold his face close to hers.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Booth asked, nuzzling his nose softly against hers in response to her actions.

"Anything," Brennan assured him, pecking his lips quickly.

Booth nipped gently at her bottom lip when she broke the kiss, hearing an uncharacteristically playful giggle arise from her throat.

"I was afraid, when we woke up this morning," he started, pausing as his index finger traced the outline of her spine softly, "I was afraid you were going to regret last night."

"Why would you be fearful of that?" Brennan asked, her fingers tugging at and twisting the little bit of hair on the back of his neck affectionately around her fingers, "I spent the night making passionate love to my partner, whom I haven't even touched in almost two months, by a warm fire in a blizzard. Explain to me what there is to regret about that."

"Bones, you can't just pretend all the Villeda crap didn't happen," Booth felt bad for bringing it up again, but had to make sure all of this was real, and not just a sign of further mental damage, "I know you feel better, and I know you want to pretend it didn't happen, but it did."

He wasn't sure if there was some sort of psychological thing where she could mentally snap and just become almost unnaturally serene, unable to remember any of the traumatic events that took place. Since he couldn't just go ask Sweets, he decided to just make sure that she was really okay, and that none of this was just a phase.

"Why are you trying to push Villeda back in my face?" Brennan asked, her smile fading slightly as she looked at Booth questioningly, pulling her face away from his only slightly.

"I'm not," he promised, "I just need you to understand that just because we had sex doesn't mean this is all just going to disappear, because it's not. Being able to deal with that kind of emotion was a big step, Bones, and I'm so, so, proud of you, but there's still the trial, so things aren't back to normal yet."

"We didn't have sex," Brennan reminded him, taking his hand to press her lips softly to the pads of his fingers, kissing over each of them, "we made love."

"Mmm," Booth laughed lightly at her correction, allowing her to tug his hand up so she could kiss the tattoo on the inside of his wrist softly, "Bones," he used the hand she wasn't holding to smooth down some of the tangles in her hair before sliding it down her back, able to feel each individual vertebrae in her spine, "God, I missed this."

"Intercourse?" Brennan asked, shivering involuntarily in response to his sensual touch.

"Well yeah, that too," Booth chuckled, "but I was more talking about the waking up next to you, all tangled together under the blankets, looking over so the first thing I see when I wake up is you looking up at me with those lusty eyes. I missed _that_."

"Oh," Brennan smiled, laughing lightly at her mistake, "all of those other things are nice, but what I really missed was the intercourse," she shrugged shamelessly, "I enjoy engaging in intercourse with you, Booth."

"Oh do you now, Doctor Brennan?" His smile was playful, his hand resting on her shoulder after it's trip up her back.

"Yes, I do," she mirrored his smile, "in fact, I'm thinking about it right now."

"Hm, why am I not surprised?" He laughed, "You're _always_ thinking about it."

"Don't you think that means something?" She asked, looking up at him with big, fake, innocent, eyes, "I'm always thinking about engaging in intercourse with you. What does that say about you?" She spoke before he had the chance to answer, "It says that you, Seeley Booth, are very, very, satisfying in that department."

"I swear, you say these things purposely to torture me," he complained.

"It's not torture if I'm planning on giving you the release you crave after hearing me say those 'things'," Brennan shrugged, smiling up at her partner suggestively, seeing that his pupils had dilated just a the slightest bit, "you're seeming to forget that I went almost two months without sex. I have some pent up energy."

"Two months for you is like six years for normal people," Booth commented, as Brennan smoothed her hands teasingly over his chest, "God, Bones, you're gonna tire me out this week, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry," she apologized playfully, dropping soft kisses to the top of his chest, "I'll try not to, but right now, I can barely keep my hands off you."

"Well it doesn't exactly feel like you're trying to keep your hands off me," he pointed out, glancing down at her when he felt her lips travel lower, "which, I'm not complaining about, by the way."

Brennan let out a light, breathy, laugh against his skin, resting her cheek at the top of his abdomen, right against his sternum, as she traced her index finger absent mindedly around his naval.

"I would like to have sex with you right now, to be honest," she stated bluntly, "but I don't think engaging in intercourse on the floor again would be good for your back."

"Bones, there's nothing wrong with my back," he complained.

"I still think you should see a doctor for it, but I know arguing with you will not accomplish anything," Brennan shrugged, "I'd threaten you by saying we wouldn't have sex until you did, but I'm sure you know as well as I do that, that would never happen."

"Especially with your 'pent up energy'," Booth pointed out, "you can barely stop yourself right now. Imagine if you had to wait for me to give in and actually _listen_ to you? 'Cause, you may not know this, but I can be very, very, stubborn."

"Yes, I'm _quite_ aware of that," she rolled her eyes playfully, turning her head so she could connect her lips to his skin again, making her way back up to the base of his neck, "lets go."

"Go?" He questioned, looking down at her curiously, "go where?"

"To bed?" She answered, as if that were obvious, nipping softly up the front of his throat, "I said I didn't want to have sex on the floor. I never said anything about the bed."

Booth laughed throatily, the laugh quickly changing to a breathy groan when she scraped her teeth teasingly over his Adam's apple.

"Mmm, Bones," he groaned, his fingers tunneling into her hair, "you drive me crazy. You know that, right?"

Brennan smiled, grabbing his chin between her thumb and her index finger to tilt his head down to look at her. She leaned up to peck his lips softly.

"I had a feeling," she smiled, cupping his face so she could pull herself back up in order to kiss him fully.

* * *

Booth dropped damp, open mouthed kisses up Brennan's back, his lips tracing the outline of her spine as they worked their way slowly up to the back of her neck, hearing her gasp when he kissed the little sensitive spot behind her earlobe.

"Booth," Brennan's moan was muffled by the feathery pillow, as she embraced the sensation of his lips kissing hotly against her skin, reaching behind her to run her fingers through his hair while cupping the back of his head to keep him close.

"I love you," he whispered, feeling her squirm when his breath tickled her ear, his fingers tracing over the damp patches of skin his lips left on her back.

"I, love you too," Brennan managed between heavy breaths.

Booth settled next to her where she laid on her stomach against the mattress, reaching over to take the piece of hair that was disarranged across her face, and tuck it behind her ear, so he could look into her eyes.

After their breathing started to calm, Booth had to wonder if he'd been too aggressive with her. He remembered, only after it was over, that she was still recovering, and she may not have been comfortable with the passion and hunger they shared that time around. Hell, he'd barely even gave her a chance to resurface once it was over, before he flipped her onto her stomach to kiss her back.

"Hey," his voice was low, as his fingers stroked her cheek softly, "you okay?

Brennan nodded, her eyes seeming to sparkle at him.

"Why wouldn't I be?" She asked.

"I wasn't sure if that was too much," he admitted, "I kind of, lost control there."

"We had sex already," Brennan was confused by his logic.

"I know, but, last time, you had control, and we went slow and all, and I just wasn't sure if I was being too aggressive, that's all," he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"You weren't," Brennan promised, reaching out to run the palm of her hand over the two day old beard on his jaw, "don't fuss over me. I'm capable of telling you if you're being too aggressive."

"That's believable, since you were pretty much telling me everything that popped into your head," he laughed, "you've never been that chatty in bed before."

"Which is surprising because you were only answering by grunting like a neanderthal," she teased, tracing her fingers down to his neck.

"I was busy," he defended, smiling charmingly, "and that's not entirely true. I'd throw in an 'mhm' every now and then."

"Besides, there's nothing wrong with talking during intercourse," Brennan shrugged, "it provides mental stimulation as well as physical. It emphasizes the fact that we can have a satisfying balance between a mental and physical relationship."

"I don't have a problem with talking during sex," Booth told her, "as long as you don't talk like _that_."

"Like what?" Brennan asked.

"The way you're talking now."

"What's wrong with the way I'm talking now?"

"It's very, squinty."

Brennan rolled her eyes at his 'squint' comment.

"Booth," she complained, "there's nothing wrong with the way I talk."

"There _is_ nothing wrong with the way you talk," Booth agreed, "as long as you don't use words like 'stimulation' and 'emphasize' while we're making love."

"I can't make any promises," she said, honestly, "I can't really control what comes out of my mouth when I talk to you during intercourse. Most of the time, I don't even remember what I said by the time you answer."

"Which explains why you never stay on topic," Booth laughed, finally understanding why the topic jumped around so much, "not that I'm really paying all that much attention to the topic anyway. I just like hearing your voice in my ear."

"You'd prefer it to be saying your name rather than asking how your day was," she told him, rather than asked.

"Oh don't even bring that up," he laughed, shaking his head at the memories of a night they made love when he came home from work late, "do you even know how close you came to ruining it for me that night?"

To Booth, if there was any way to kill the mood, it was talking about work.

"I was just being affectionate," Brennan defended, "I figured you'd appreciate if I asked how your day was."

"Not while we're having sex! That's a topic you save for afterwards."

Brennan rolled her eyes playfully as she nuzzled into his neck, pressing soft kisses up the side of his throat in an attempt to change the subject, since she could tell it was only a matter of time before they started bickering again. Booth groaned his approval, his fingers tracing the outline of her shoulder blades.

"You like that?" Brennan asked.

"Is that a serious question?" Booth asked back at her.

Brennan smiled in satisfaction as she nipped softly at his earlobe.

"How about that?" She asked.

"Bones, I'm not gay," he responded.

"Trust me, I know," she smiled suggestively, tilting her head down to look at him.

"Jeez, aren't you tired by now?" Booth laughed, seeing where all of this was heading.

"A little," she admitted, "but not so tired that I couldn't go for another round."

"Well call me crazy, but _I'm _tired," he chuckled, hearing it quickly change to another groan of approval when she nipped at the shell of his ear, "and I'm starving. Aren't you hungry?"

"Not for food," Brennan whispered seductively, her tongue soothing the path she'd nipped at, "God, I can't get enough of you all of the sudden," she breathed against his ear, moving up slightly to kiss along his hairline, "I'm going to make up for every little moment I missed while I was having those stupid, irrational, fears of intimacy."

"There was nothing 'stupid' or 'irrational' about you being scared," Booth promised her, his eyes slipping shut, "you went through something traumatic."

"There was no sexual component of the abuse," she told him, finally giving him a straight answer on the question he'd been dying to ask her since day one, "so there was no reason I should have been scared of being intimate with you."

"You were just, scared, Bones," Booth was unsure how to explain it, the fact that Brennan was kissing over his face not helping his mind operate any smoother than it would have been, "listen, this is more Sweets' department than mine, but I'm pretty sure it was normal for you to be afraid. It didn't have to do with the sex itself, but with the emotion of it."

Brennan stopped her kisses when he talked about the emotion, her lips pausing on his cheek as she looked up at him.

"For four days," she started, smoothing her palm over his chest as she used it to push herself up slightly, in order to press her nose to his, "for four days, I thought you were dead. Now, normally, it would upset me for a minute, but then I'd remember that death is inevitable and I'd be able to recover, but, for some reason, I, couldn't. And that scared me. Human beings need to be able to recover from losing someone close to them. There's something wrong if they can't. So that means, obviously, there's something wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you, Bones," he promised.

"Except there is, Booth," Brennan was slightly frustrated as she sat up straight, turning herself around to sit with her back to the headboard of the bed, "there is a fault in the design if a human can't recover from a traumatic event. When I thought you were dead, I couldn't recover."

"Bones, if I really was dead, you would have been able to move on," Booth assured her, "four days is not that long. I _hope_ when I die it'll take you more than four days to get over it."

"Don't," she mumbled, only taking notice to how bitterly cold the house was just then, as she pulled the blanket around her shoulders, "don't, say that."

"I'm sorry," he apologized quietly, knowing that she still didn't take talking about death very well at all yet.

Brennan stayed quiet as she pulled the blankets tight around her shoulders, shivering violently, the loss of the shared body heat seeming to only emphasize how cold the house was. She hadn't noticed it all morning, since she'd been cuddled up with Booth the whole time, but it made sense. There was no heat in the house, due to the loss of power.

"Bones," Booth took notice to how uncomfortable she looked, "are you okay?"

"I'm freezing," Brennan told him, her teeth chattering slightly, "this blanket is not proving to be a very effective way of keeping warm."

"Come here, baby," he whispered, pulling her back into his arms.

Even just the slightest bit of body heat warmed her up a bit, even though she was still shivering.

"Don't call me baby," she murmured, resting her head against his shoulder as she shook.

Booth rolled his eyes slightly as he held her close, rubbing his hands over her biceps in an attempt to warm her up.

"It's okay, Bones," he whispered, referring to both the death conversation and how she was shivering roughly from the cold, "you're okay."

"I know," she assured him, pulling herself close as she pressed her nose against the warm crook of his neck, "I know, Booth."


	62. The Power 'll Come Back Eventually

**A/N: Jeez, I'm really sorry that took so long. That stupid laptop cord took forever to come, and then I had a project to do this week. *eye roll*. If you all only knew how much I hate projects. xD Anyway though, thank you all for being so patient. And, of course, for any feedback. =]**

**I really can't lie, this chapter has no plot development at all, just fluff. But fluff is good, right? xD**

Chapter Sixty-Two:

"The Power 'll Come Back Eventually"

"How long do you think it will be until the power comes back?" Brennan asked, mixing a salad together in a large bowl as she spoke, the plastic fork clinking against the glass, "I was planning on making some mac and cheese, until I remembered that I can't use the stove."

"Hopefully soon," Booth responded, cursing under his breath as he poked at the fire he was attempting to start again, "I'm not sure how much longer I can take this."

"Lighting the fire?" Brennan asked, "Because if you need help, I'd be glad to help you."

"No, Bones, I don't need help, I can do it myself," he grumbled, refusing to take help from her in doing something as simple as lighting a fire in the fireplace, "just let me be the one who's good at something for once."

"You're better at skiing than I am," she shrugged, ignoring the sharpness of his tone, since she knew he tended to get cranky when he couldn't do something, "although, I actually found that very enjoyable. I'd like to try it again."

"Yeah, once we can actually get out of here," he reminded her.

"When do you think that will be?"

"At this rate, another three years."

"That's highly improbable. The snow blocking the door will melt before that."

Booth opened his mouth to tell her he was just being sarcastic, but decided against it, just ignoring her and continuing to poke around in the fireplace, occasionally getting a spark that would look like it was going to catch, but then just flutter lamely to the rest of the ash. Brennan simply watched, putting some of her salad into a bowl and sticking her fork in it, taking small bites.

"Move that log over," she directed, when the poker touched the log she was referring to, "then light another match and drop it on that newspaper under the other log."

"Bones, I know what I'm doing," he assured her, having to get snippy with her, even though he just followed her advice anyway.

When he tossed the match into the spot she pointed out, the logs ignited into a steady, warm fire. Booth let out a long breath and set the poker down, resting is weight on his hands from where he was kneeling in front of the fire.

"Well what do you know?" He said, "A fire."

"You're welcome," Brennan responded to the words he never said.

"Thanks, Bones," Booth said reluctantly, standing up as he brushed off the fabric of his jeans, "you're the best."

"If I'm the best then you should give me some sort of reward," Brennan pointed out, putting a fork full of her salad into her mouth after she spoke.

"Your reward is knowing you're the best," he told her, taking a seat next to her at the table as she ate, "I don't have to give you anything."

"I was just going to ask for sex," Brennan shrugged.

"Oh, why am I not surprised?" His voice indicated discomfort.

Seeing her partners face flush slightly in embarrassment from the corner of her eye, Brennan continued, "but if you don't want to..."

She left that one open for him to contemplate as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. The one thing Booth was sure of was that he didn't have to worry about whether Brennan would ever be completely back to being herself. The way she was acting now assured him that the real Temperance Brennan was back to stay.

"Bones, I'm too old for this," he only half joked, "I think I might have a heart attack if you keep it up."

"I've never once heard of a healthy man in your age range going into cardiac arrest from having too much sexual intercourse," she assured him.

"That part was only a joke," he rolled his eyes slightly, "but I really am getting too old for this 'lets see how many rounds we can go before the day's over' game," he paused when she looked at him skeptically, "not that I don't like it, I just can't keep up with you."

"Sure you can," Brennan shrugged, "you're always the one who brags about your stamina. And you're not even that old. You don't have to worry about losing your sex drive until you're in your fifties."

"Okay, new topic," he cut her off quickly, before she could continue.

"But I'm serious," she continued anyway, even though Booth made it perfectly clear that this was not the subject he wanted to discuss, "early to mid fifties is the normal age for a man to start struggling in that department. Some men just lose the desire to have sex all together, while others find that they don't last as long, and some will have the desire, but will become incapable of sustaining an ere-"

"Enough!" He cut her off, "I'm not having this discussion with you."

"I'm just informing you of what you may start to experience in your later years. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Women experienced decreased libido as well when going through menopause."

"What part of 'I'm not having this discussion with you' do you not understand?"

"Fine, we won't talk about it," Brennan rolled her eyes at how easily embarrassed he was, "even though I don't see what your problem is. It's still going to be several years before you reach that stage of your life."

"It's not _that_ long," he reminded her, "and I'd rather just cross that bridge when I get to it. If I think about it now I'll just start getting all worked up."

"What bridge?" She asked, her nose wrinkling in confusion.

"The metaphorical bridge between being a sexy FBI agent and some old guy who can't get it up," he explained.

"Aw, Booth," Brennan laughed at his irrational fear of 'crossing that bridge', setting her fork down so she could touch the side of his face with her fingertips, "if it's any consolation, you'll always be a sexy FBI agent to me."

"Yeah, not when I come home from a long day of work, you offer me a full body massage, and my response is 'maybe tomorrow, dear'."

Brennan laughed as she took a small bite of her food.

"Now lets get serious, Agent Booth, I don't think either of us will live to see the day when you turn down a full body massage from me."

"That's true," Booth had to laugh as well, catching on to the fact that, even if it was subconsciously, she was trying to make light of his fear of getting older, "if I _do_ go to Hell for everything I've done, my punishment will be getting teased by you for the rest of eternity."

"I'd say that's a decent punishment," she shrugged, "it's better than other people's depictions of hell, which include doing manual labor for the devil himself."

"That's because, I'd like to believe, I won't be _that_ deep in Hell," he explained.

"Right, the non-believers are the people who are sent to the deepest depths of hell," she took a discreet shot at his religion, "if you're a rapist, or a murderer, but find God, you can be forgiven, but if you don't accept Jesus Christ as your lord and savior, you're going to hell."

"And this is why I hate talking about religion with you," he muttered.

"Because you think I'm going to be damned to Hell you hate discussing religion with me?"

"Bones, no one said I think you're going to be damned to Hell."

"According to your beliefs-"

" 'According to my beliefs' nothing," he cut her off, trying to stop this whole religion argument before it got out of hand, "if you go to hell, then obviously I was wrong. Because, even though you, lack, in the empathy department, you're still a good person. And according to _my_ beliefs, not the Catholic beliefs, good people go to Heaven. End of story."

"I don't think the Pope would be too thrilled about you disagreeing with the Catholic faith," Brennan warned him.

"Well then if the Pope is right and I'm going to Hell for disagreeing with the Catholic faith, and if Catholics are right about non-Christians going to Hell, then I'll see you there."

Brennan had to laugh and shake her head at his comment, which managed to break the tense feel of the conversation. That was only one of the many things that made her relationship with Booth different from her prior relationships. If she was arguing with Sully, they wouldn't be able to just brush it off and laugh about it only seconds later. Sometimes, when she'd argue with Sully, they wouldn't speak for hours. She figured it was different with Booth because bickering was something they'd done habitually for the past several years. To her, it would have been a sign that something was wrong if they _stopped_ bickering once their relationship escalated.

Neither of them felt the desire to fill the silence for the next couple minutes, another aspect of their relationship that was on Brennan's list of many things she loved about it. The fact that they could sit in silence and not feel the need to make pointless small talk made her feel comfortable. She didn't feel any pressure to make conversation, because she knew neither of them felt the need to speak when it wasn't necessary.

Brennan was startled when she heard her partner move, and turned her head to see that he stood up. She had to wonder, for a split second, if he was still mad at her about the religion argument, so she took it upon herself to subtly ask.

"Where are you going?" She asked, tilting her head slightly to look up at him.

"To take a hot shower," he told her, simply, "I'm freezing."

"I would have to advise against that," she took another bite of her salad after she spoke, "taking a hot shower will warm you for the moment, but when you get out, the contrast of the hot shower and the cold air in the house will make it worse."

"I really don't care that much right now," he told her, "this is torture. I'm wearing a hundred layers and I'm still shivering."

"I'm just warning you, you'll be less comfortable if you take a shower."

"Well then what can I do? Obviously layering up isn't working."

Booth was growing increasingly more frustrated with the lack of heat in the house as time went on, since nothing he did seemed to help. The fire blazing in the fireplace seemed to radiate little to no heat, and no matter how many layers he wore, or how many blankets he was under, it was still bitterly cold.

"Exercise," Brennan suggested, "my suggestion would be something that gets the blood circulating through the entire body. I can teach you some yoga techniques."

Booth laughed lightly at her offer.

"No thanks," he chuckled, "no offence, Bones, but you'd never catch me doing yoga."

"Not even if you were given a choice? Freeze or do yoga?"

"The power 'll come back eventually."

"Well don't say I didn't try to help," she shrugged, "I'd suggest exchanging body heat, but then you'd start complaining about my planning to throw you into cardiac arrest."

"I wouldn't complain if I wasn't one hundred percent sure that you're secretly trying to kill me," he assured her, with a nod of his head, "I figured you out, Bones. You don't love me. You hate me. And that's why you torture me, and try to sex me to death."

"You'd be a fool if you actually believed that I hate you," she told him, only half joking, since she didn't want him to start actually believing that she didn't love him, "if I hated you I could find a much more effective way of killing you."

"But you chose sexing me to death because there would be no way to prove that you did it on purpose," he pointed out, "you'd just say you were trying to tease your partner, and he just started having a heart attack. Throw in the whole 'I tried to help him, but nothing was working' excuse, and a few tears and you're good to go."

"Working with murder for all these years, I've figured out how I could murder someone and never get caught," she informed him, seeing his expression change from playful to slightly concerned, "each killer's mistake just makes my plan that much more fool proof."

"Okay, now I'm worried," he furrowed his eyebrow in concern as he studied her expression, "I hope you're not planning on testing out this theory."

"Maybe. Maybe not," she looked at him with playful suggestiveness, "as a scientist, I test out all of my theories."

"Okay, enough about that," he wanted to get off this topic, since he was becoming increasingly more concerned with how serious she seemed.

"Booth, I was only kidding," she complained, rolling her eyes at how serious he could be, "you always say I'm literal, when it's you that can't take a joke."

"Because I was pretty sure you didn't know how to joke," he laughed lightly, "good one, Bones. You got me."

"I can be fairly amusing," Brennan informed him, with a confident smile, "I've had people tell me that I'm actually quite funny."

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Bones, but they probably thought you were kidding when you starting getting all squinty on them," Booth told her, placing his hand on her shoulder in a playful comforting gesture, "but don't worry. I know you have a real sense of humor deep down in there, somewhere," he moved his hand from her shoulder to touch her stomach with his index finger, indicating how deep down her sense of humor was buried."

Brennan peeked up at him, her smile radiant.

"Maybe it's a little lower," she suggested, brushing her hand over his.

"Don't you dare," he chuckled, moving his hand from her stomach back to her shoulder, "I'm not going to let you seduce me, Bones. Not until tomorrow at least."

"Taking part in intercourse would result in a rise in body temperature," she informed him, "it would be an effective way of warming up."

"I'll just do a lot of push-ups. Push-ups won't kill me," he smiled charmingly down at her.

With a small frown of disappointment, Brennan turned back around so she was facing forward, putting another fork of salad into her mouth as she grumbled something inaudible under her breath. Sometimes, she swore he did it on purpose. He was so damn charming, and then refused to give her what she wanted. She was only pulled out of her angry thoughts when she felt his lips against the shell of her ear, causing her to gasp in surprise.

"But on the other hand," his voice was sultry in her ear, "I think you're idea would be more effective," he paused to nip her earlobe gently, eliciting another gasp from her, "and I think death is a risk I'm willing to take."

"I believe you just succeeded in teasing me by saying you were going to exercise as opposed to taking up my offer," Brennan said, informing him that she picked up on his teasing intentions as her hand reached back to touch the back of his neck, almost subconsciously.

"That was the point," he laughed lightly, kissing the sensitive spot behind her ear, "and did you really think I'd ever be able to reject you?"

"I didn't think you would," she paused to make a small sound of appreciation, "but I wasn't one hundred percent certain."

Booth just let out a soft, breathy, chuckle as he moved his lips slowly along the line of her jaw, and down her neck, making sure to cover every inch of skin with a searing kiss. Brennan stood up when she felt his hands move to her waist in a silent signal, opening her eyes only to glance around the small house.

"Where?" Was all she asked.

Booth made a small nod towards the bedroom, making sure not to disconnect his lips from her skin in the process as he took a step, pulling her gently along with him. When they reached the bedroom, Brennan became so lost in her partner that she barely even took notice to the lights flickering back on and the soft sound of the heated air starting to circulate through the vent in the room, the heat between them proving to be much more pleasing than the synthetic air.


	63. Don't Laugh at Me

**A/N: Hello. =] Again, thanks for the feedback from the last chapter (and the ones before it). I'm glad you didn't all hate me for making you wait forever for the last one. xD So here's the new chapter, sorry if it's not one of the best, me and my killer immune system have some kind of cold/cough/sore throat again, so I haven't felt up to writing the past few days. Which is why I saved the last day of vacation for next chapter so I could actually write it decently when I felt better. xD**

Chapter Sixty-Three:

"Don't Laugh at Me"

"What are you thinking about, Bones?" Booth asked, his voice quiet as his fingers ran through her hair, which was sprawled messily across his chest, their skin still slightly sticky with sweat from their last go-round.

Brennan shrugged weakly, looking at the lightbulb in the lamp that was sitting on a night stand, which had been recently turned back on when the power came back.

"D.C.," she admitted, glancing up at him for only a split second before looking away.

"You miss playing with your bones?" He teased.

Brennan simply sighed, a far away look in her eyes and a small frown on her face. Normally, when they'd cuddle up together after sex, there'd be laughing, soft kisses, gentle caresses, playful jokes, but, for some reason, Brennan seemed like something was bothering her that day. Her expression seemed heavy with some sort distress.

"What's the matter, Bones?" Booth tried again, seeing she wasn't responding well to his little joke, "Home sick?"

"No," Brennan assured him, her hair brushing against his chest when she shook her head, "quite the opposite, actually."

"What do you mean?" Booth asked, placing a soft kiss on her temple, as she just let out another sad sounding sigh through her nose, closing her eyes.

Brennan shifted her weight onto her elbow, as opposed to letting it rest against Booth's chest, so she could prop herself up and look up at him.

"I started thinking about D.C., and, when I did, I got an unpleasant feeling in the bottom of my stomach," she told him, the fingers of her other hand tracing over the planes of his chest, "I realized a few minutes later that it was because I don't want to go back."

"You _don't _want to go back to D.C.?" Booth asked, just wanting some clarification. Brennan shook her head, her eyes looking lost and confused, "Why not?"

"I don't know," Brennan said softly, chewing nervously on her bottom lip for a couple seconds before she continued, "is that normal?"

"Of course it's normal," Booth promised, his fingers purposely brushing over the back of her neck when he toyed with her locks of auburn hair, "when people are on vacation, they never want to leave. Vacation's supposed to do that to you. Why do you think people like it so much?"

"I don't enjoy this feeling," she said, peeking up at him once more, "even though this 'house' is tiny, and cold, it still makes me feel content. For the first time in a very long time, I woke up in front of the fire, and wasn't afraid. I knew I wasn't back in that basement. I knew you were next to me."

"You shouldn't be afraid back home either," Booth's voice lowered when she brought up her kidnaping again, "I'm telling you, Bones, I'm _promising_ you, whenever you wake up in the morning, I'll be right there. Just remember that."

"I won't be able to think clearly enough to remember that when I'm first waking up," Brennan mumbled, resting her head back against his chest.

"If you can think clearly enough to remember waking up in that basement, you'll be able to think clearly enough to know that's over, and that you're going to open your eyes, and be back in my bed, or your bed, where you belong."

"More than likely your bed," she smiled weakly up at him, his words seeming to comfort her a little, "I spend the night with you very frequently. I think I've slept in my own bed maybe five or six times in the past four months, and all of those times you were with me."

Booth laughed at her observation, knowing that was almost true. She may have been exaggerating a little bit, even though that was a very rare occurrence for her, but she summed it up pretty nicely. He hadn't spent a night alone in a very long time, probably since Valentine's Day. That was when she started to bring her clothes over, and practically took over the shelves in his shower.

"Then you should move in with me," he suggested subtly, not wanting to come on too strong and scare her off.

"Didn't we already have this discussion?" Brennan furrowed her eyebrows in distress as she brushed a hand affectionately over his face, "I'm sorry, but I don't want to move in with you."

"Bones, I hate to break it to you, but we live together," he told her, the words flowing out since he was growing frustrated with her pretending they didn't share a home when they so obviously did, "just make it official. When we get back to D.C., just get the rest of your crap and, move in."

Brennan ran her hands over his shoulders, feeling slightly guilty when he looked down at her with a look of confusion in his eyes.

"I like having my place, just as a back up plan," she admitted, not wanting him to feel hurt when she told him, "I feel comfortable knowing that I still have somewhere to go if things take a turn for the worse, which, I don't believe they will. If, for some reason, we get into an argument and we don't want to spend the night together, I have somewhere to go."

"So you won't move in with me because you don't think we're stable enough?" Booth questioned, wondering how, after all they'd been through together, she could possibly feel like she would need a back up plan.

"No," Brennan shook her head quickly, not wanting him to get the wrong idea, "no, of course not. I just, don't normally live with the men I'm seeing. I know you're different, I know _we're_ different, but, just basing my thought process off prior relationships," she fumbled with her words, feeling as if every time she went to explain they would come out wrong and just make it sound worse than it should have been, "I love you, Booth. And, I don't say that. Ever. The fact that I'm able to say that love is more than a science should tell you that I'm serious about this. As much as I hate to admit it, you've changed my perspective on that. I've been with a lot of men, but the feeling I get when I'm around you is so much different, it scares me sometimes."

Booth laughed lightly, receiving a frown and a small huff from Brennan, since she was offended when she admitted something serious and he only chuckled at her as if she were making some sort of joke.

"I wasn't joking," she muttered, "don't laugh at me."

"I wasn't laughing at you, Bones," Booth promised, cupping the side of her face affectionately, "it's just, that shouldn't scare you. At all."

"Normally when you get a strange feeling you feel alarmed," Brennan told him, rubbing her cheek against the palm of his hand, "not because it's a bad feeling, but because it's foreign. It took me a remarkably long time to adjust to the way I felt around you before we were in a relationship. Now that we're _in_ a relationship, I have to readjust. Sometimes, as strange as this sounds, I forget that I can just kiss you whenever I desire, or hold your hand, just because I want to. When we were just friends and partners, I'd trained myself to avoid thinking about you that way. Romantically, I mean."

"Trained yourself?" He asked, tucking her hair behind her ear, "What are you? A dog?"

"Forget it," Brennan murmured, "I can tell you're not going to take me seriously right now," she leaned down to kiss the base of his throat, "we'll talk about it later."

"I'm sorry, Bones," his voice was apologetic as he used the corner of the blanket they were sharing to wipe a lone drop of post-intimacy sweat gently from her forehead, "I'm just, in a happy mood, that's all."

"Any particular reason why?" Brennan asked, taking the blanket from his hand to do the same for him.

"Gee, I don't know. Maybe because I just had amazing sex with a hot anthropologist?" Booth laughed lightly, as Brennan rolled her eyes playfully, wrapping the blanket tight around her chest before she sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

She sat on the edge of the bed, resting her elbows against her knees as she took a deep breath, able to feel Booth sit up next to her and turn so he was facing the same wall she was, his hand on the small of her back as his lips easily found her shoulder blade.

"Hey," he whispered, peppering soft kisses along her shoulder blade, "stay."

Brennan laughed lightly and tilted her head back to rest it against his shoulder, turning it slightly so she could watch him.

"I was just going to cook some mac and cheese," she told him, squirming when his lips wandered to the crook of her neck, "that salad wasn't very filling."

"Or you just worked it off," Booth pointed out, taking her earlobe softly between his teeth when he finished speaking.

"Booth," she complained at his actions, but to some, it would have sounded much more like a sound of pleasure rather than complaint, "I need to eat something. My stomach is making all sorts of strange noises and," she paused when he kissed along the outer shell of her ear, "and it's very hard to think clearly when you're doing that."

"That's kind of the point," he filled her in, his hand tracing small circles on her lower back as he kissed back down to her earlobe, "just stay. For ten minutes."

"Fine," Brennan whispered, almost against her will, as she leaned her back against his chest, completely unable to reject him when he was touching her like that, "ten minutes."

* * *

Much more than ten minutes later, Brennan had finally started cooking the macaroni and cheese she was planning on making almost two hours before that. Damn Booth for being so hard to resist. She hadn't exactly planned on cuddling up with him for two hours before she even started to cook, and, by that point, her stomach was rumbling violently. Booth had decided to take a shower while she made dinner, since she told him she didn't like to be 'hovered' while she was trying to cook, and he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself from peeking over her shoulder every few minutes to ask her how long it was going to be until it was finished. In, what happened to be perfect timing, Brennan heard the timer go off, telling her to take the food out of the oven only a few minutes before she heard the water in the shower stop, indicating that Booth was finished. She took the food out of the oven and set it on the stove to cool, leaving it unattended to set the table.

"Wow, I should really tell Jared to invest in a new water heater. The water got cold in like, two minutes," Booth commented, spotting the mac and cheese that was cooling on the stove, "hey, mac and cheese, my favorite."

Not knowing that it just came out of the over, he stuck his index and middle finger into the dish to scoop some out, cursing under his breath as he quickly sucked the food off his fingers.

"Booth, that's highly unsanitary," Brennan scolded him, setting a fork on each plate she had put on the table, "you're such a child sometimes."

"What?" He asked innocently, holding up his hands to show them to her, "they're clean."

"I don't believe I asked for extra finger in my macaroni," Brennan teased.

"Consider it an early anniversary present," he teased right back at her.

"Words would fail to express my gratitude," she said in a playfully sarcastic voice, as she moved the candle that was being used as a center piece off the table in order to put the dish of macaroni in the middle of it.

Brennan turned to get the macaroni, stopping herself short when she almost slammed full force into Booth, making sure she bumped into him with as little force as possible.

"Woah, going somewhere?" Booth laughed, holding the dish up slightly to make sure it didn't make contact with her skin when she turned into him, "Slow down, Bones."

"I'll do it," she didn't respond to him, only reaching for the dish he was holding.

"No," he told her, holding it higher when she went to grab it from him, "sit."

"Booth, I'm capable of putting macaroni on plates," she complained.

"But you went through the trouble of making it, so serving it is the least I can do," he chuckled when she furrowed her eyebrows in annoyance, "sit."

Brennan reluctantly took her seat, picking up her fork to twirl it absent mindedly in her hand as Booth spooned the food onto their plates. She stayed quiet until he sat next to her, and she dipped her fork into her dinner to taste a bit on the tip of her tongue.

"You know I hate being babied," she reminded him, taking a real fork full into her mouth after she experimented.

"Well good thing I'm not babying you," he smiled charmingly, glancing up at her to see her lift her eyes to meet his, looking at him seriously, "come on, Bones. Don't be a buzz kill."

"I don't believe I'm killing any buzz," she shrugged.

Booth furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he looked from Brennan to his plate, then back to Brennan, wondering why she was so cranky all of the sudden.

"This is delicious, by the way," he told her, gesturing towards the food with his fork.

"Yes, it is," she said, taking a short pause, "thank you."

"Aw, you're welcome, Bones," he found even that slight glint of humbleness cute, "looks like someone remembered to have their slice of humble pie today."

"I don't like pie," she reminded him, "never have, never will."

"It's not literal pie, it's just-" he stopped himself while he was ahead, "you know, never mind. Is there something bothering you?"

"No," Brennan looked at him with confused eyes, "what would make you come to that conclusion?"

"Nothing, you just, seemed upset before, about going back to D.C. and all. Not really anymore. But I just wanted to make sure you were okay, that's all."

"I appreciate your concern, but I really am fine," she promised, "I'm not thrilled about returning home, but it's not a big deal."

Booth nodded as he swallowed his food before continuing.

"Tomorrow's our last day," he reminded her.

"I know," Brennan nodded, "then back to work for a week or so, then the trial."

Booth nodded again taking a quick bite of his food.

"Maybe I should practice my testimony," Brennan pondered, "it would probably be helpful in the long run. But maybe I should just wait until we get back so I can practice with Caroline," Brennan paused as she pushed her macaroni nervously around her plate, noticing that she was starting to get herself worked up, "What if Villeda gets acquitted?"

"He won't," Booth promised.

"You don't know that," Brennan mumbled, "what if my testimony isn't good enough? What if Villeda's lawyer discredits me?"

"Hey," Brennan looked over at him when she felt Booth's hand on her forearm, "take it one day at a time, alright?"

"Okay," Brennan half smiled, "and what do you suppose we're going to do tomorrow?"

"I'm not really sure yet, I haven't gotten that far," Booth admitted, rubbing his hand affectionately over her forearm, "but I can promise you one thing," he paused when she looked at him quizzically, "I'm going to make it the best 'last day of vacation' in the history of 'last day of vacation's."


	64. I'll Make It Up to You

**A/N: Thank you all for the reviews and such. =] You'd think the excitement of reviews would wear off, but I still love 'em.**

**To be honest, this one's basically just a filler to set up the big 'return to D.C./getting back to reality'. When they got back to D.C., things are gonna get a little bumpy in their relationship for a little bit. Just a fair warning. **

Chapter Sixty-Four:

"I'll Make It Up to You"

"Bones," Booth whispered in her ear, causing her to jump and awake from the deep sleep she was in only seconds prior, "psst, Bones."

"What?" Brennan answered into the pillow, her voice having the slightest hint of irritation to it.

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey," he whispered, rubbing her shoulder softly, "wake up, morning glory."

"I hate the morning," she mumbled, her face buried deep in the feathery pillow.

"Sarcasm, Bones," he rolled his eyes playfully, resting his chin on her shoulder as he shifted his eyes up to meet hers, "if you don't get up we won't have time to do everything I have planned for today."

"Seeley Booth has a plan?" Her voice was sarcastic as she tilted her head up to look at him with half open eyes, "usually I'm the one with the plan and you're the spontaneous one."

"I'm a constant surprise," he reminded her.

Brennan laughed lightly, humming appreciatively when she felt him turn his head to kiss over the skin of her face he could reach in their current position.

"What's your plan, FBI?" She asked tipping her head to the side to expand the area available to him.

"I'm gonna take you out to breakfast," he told her, peppering kisses over her cheek, "and then we'll race at the ski hill, like you said you wanted to, and by race I mean I'll totally smoke you in a race down the ski hill," Brennan rolled her eyes playfully at his confidence, "and then I was debating between another day of skiing or ice skating, but since you hated ice skating last time we went I figured you'd pick skiing. Then tonight I'm taking you out to a nice dinner."

Brennan groaned when she heard the word 'nice' before dinner. Usually 'nice' dinners meant getting dressed up and going to a top of the line restaurant.

"Do I have to dress formally?" She asked.

"So I just told you I'm going to do all this nice stuff for you today and that's all you have to say?" Booth asked.

"Well I appreciate it, Booth, but you know you don't need to take me out for a fancy dinner and make plans to give me a 'perfect day'," Brennan looked at him apologetically, "I don't want you to think I don't appreciate it, but I just want you to know you don't have to."

"I know I don't have to," he rolled his eyes, "I'm doing this as much for me as I am for you. We've been cooped up in his house for two days. I'm going stir crazy."

"I thought I was doing a good job keeping you entertained," Brennan smiled suggestively.

"Trust me, baby, you were," Booth laughed lightly his fingers skimming absent mindedly over her stomach, which was covered with her thin, white, cotton t-shirt, "but you know how I can get when I'm in the same place for too long."

"Yes, you get very jittery and uncomfortable," she commented, watching his fingers as the moved over her stomach, "and don't call me baby."

"I still don't get what your problem with the word 'baby' is."

"I don't have a problem with the word 'baby', when it's used in the right context. I don't understand how it is a term of endearment for you to say I'm an infant. And I've told you not to say it numerous times, but you seem to have a fixation with it."

Booth rolled his eyes at how she said it like he had something wrong with him for calling his girlfriend 'baby', like most guys did.

"It's force of habit, Bones, nothing more, nothing less," he promised her, "usually the girls I date don't mind me calling them baby."

"Did Tessa like when you called her baby?" Brennan asked.

Booth furrowed his eyebrow at his partner.

"Why are you starting with that again? What's with your obsession with Tessa?"

"Well we were talking about women you've dated," Brennan said defensively, "but if you don't want to talk about Tessa, for whatever reason, what about Rebecca?"

"You know, I'm not gonna sit around and just chat about the women I've dated with you," he put a stop to the awkward conversation, "forget I said anything. I was just being stupid. It doesn't matter what Tessa liked, or what Rebecca liked, it matters what you like. And if you don't want me calling you baby, then it's done. I won't say it anymore."

Brennan half smiled, pleased with his cooperation, as she turned her head to kiss the tip of his nose affectionately.

"Booth?" She asked.

"Mhm," he responded simply, moving his hand from her stomach to run it through her hair.

"Do you want to know why I ask about Tessa so much?"

Booth's hand stopped running through her hair when he turned his head to look at her curiously.

"Kind of," he told her.

Brennan pushed her hair over her left shoulder, shifting awkwardly under the arm he had draped around her waist before she spoke.

"I find that I'm a little, jealous," she admitted, her cheeks burning in embarrassment.

"Jealous of Tessa?" Booth asked, chuckling lightly, only to receive a look of disapproval from Brennan, "Why? Tessa and I broke up years ago. And she was just a little, thing. She and I weren't even as serious as you and Sully were."

"I'm not jealous of the relationship you had with Tessa," Brennan clarified, raking her fingers nervously through her hair, "I'm jealous of, her. Not extremely jealous, but jealous, nevertheless. She's the type of girl you like. Tall, thin, blonde, well-off. I'm not even your type."

"Bones-"

"I've noticed I'm not as thin as most of the girls you've had relationships with," Brennan pointed out, cutting him off before he could tell her she was wrong, when she knew for a fact that she wasn't, "and you seem to prefer blondes. Objectively, I'm smarter than virtually all of them combined. Maybe that's what you like."

"Bones, I like, _you_," he attempted to explain.

"That, doesn't make sense," Brennan said, her confusion audible in her voice, "there has to be something you like _about_ me."

"You want me to go into specifics?" Booth asked, "You can't just take my word for it?"

"I believe you," Brennan assured him, not wanting him to get the wrong idea, "but I can name a lot of things I like about you."

She shivered when Booth's arm unwrapped from around her waist and he leaned away from her so he could sit up straight, looking down at her. Brennan sat up only halfway so she could make a small 'hmpf' sound and lean her head against his rib cage.

"You're angry with me," she observed, closing her eyes when she felt his fingers in her hair, running them gently through, making sure they didn't get caught in any tangles.

"I'm not mad at you, Bones, I just don't understand the way you think sometimes," Brennan could tell by the tone of his voice that he was more hurt than annoyed.

"Relationships," Brennan started, letting out a small sigh, "they're not my strong suit."

"I know," Booth promised, kissing her hair softly, "I know, Bones."

"I didn't mean to upset you," she apologized, opening her eyes so she could look up at him.

"I'm not upset," he lied.

"Yes you are."

"So now, all of the sudden, you can read people?"

"I spend a lot of time with you. I learned from the best," Brennan paused, picking her head up so she could sit up completely straight next to him, "I just want you to know that even though I might say things that make you think I doubt the way you feel about me, I don't."

"I know that, Bones," Booth assured her, moving to get out of bed, only to be stopped when she grabbed his arm gently.

"No, you don't," Brennan's tone was serious, as Booth turned his head to look at her, seeing the honesty in her eyes, "I know, sometimes things I say can come out wrong. You'd think after four months I would have gotten better at this whole relationship thing, but I don't feel like I'm making any significant progress."

"Sure you are," Booth assured her, flashing her a small half smile, "four months ago you wouldn't say we were a couple. You snapped at me for saying we were a couple. Now, you're the one putting labels on it. Which is kind of ironic, if you ask me."

"Booth," Brennan's expression didn't budge when he tried to make light of the situation, "I need you to trust me when I tell you I know how you feel about me. And I need you to trust me when I tell you I love you back. I trust you with my life. Now it's your turn."

"Bones-"

"I love you, Booth. You believe me, don't you?"

"Of course I do," he promised, "you can't fake stuff like that."

"I'm sorry that I'm so, terrible, at this," she rubbed his arm apologetically.

"You're not," Booth chuckled lightly, putting his hand over hers, "I always knew being with you, wouldn't be easy, by any stretch of the imagination," Brennan rolled her eyes playfully, "but I always knew we'd be able to make it work."

"I think we're doing a pretty good job at making it work," Brennan smiled weakly.

"Yeah," Booth smiled back, "I think so too."

Brennan leaned up to meet his lips, claiming them with a tender kiss.

"Now that we got that out of the way," she laughed softly, pressing her forehead to his, "how about that breakfast you promised me?"

Booth had to laugh at how easily she changed the subject from relationship problems to food in a matter of seconds.

"I thought you'd never ask," he replied, leaning forward to peck her lips once more, "Jared told me about this place a few minutes from here. He said they have the best-"

He was cut off by the sharp sound of his phone ringing on the night stand. He could feel the small puff of air Brennan blew out in annoyance as he groaned and reached for his phone, mumbling a 'who the hell is calling me?' under his breath when he did so.

"Booth," he answered when he flipped his phone open.

Brennan pecked his lips again when she heard a man's voice on the other end of the phone, unable to make out the words he was saying. Although, she could tell by the way his lips stiffened under hers after the third small kiss to his lips, that whatever it was wasn't good. The voice on the other end seemed to drone on, as Brennan listened closely to try to make out some of what he was talking about. She was noticeable surprised when Booth leaned away from her, standing up and going to the dresser to open it and start taking articles of clothing out.

"Yeah, we'll be there as soon as we can, but we still have to wait for the next plane home and then it's a four hour flight so I can't promise it's gonna be anytime soon," his tone sounded much darker than it had a few minutes prior when he answered the phone.

Brennan realized when he spoke, that someone was obviously asking them to go back to D.C., which wasn't going to happen if she had anything to say about it. But, then again, his words indicated that he'd already made the decision himself. He said just a few more 'yes's and things of that nature before he hung up, placing his phone on top of the dresser.

"Come on, Bones, come help me pack, we gotta go," he hurried her, opening one of the drawers that contained her clothes for her.

"Are you going to explain what's going on? Or are you just going to order me around like a child?" Brennan asked.

"We have a case," he answered, too busy packing to explain the case to her, "let's go, chop, chop, don't just stand around looking lost."

"We still have one more day of vacation," Brennan complained, grabbing her bag and kneeling in front of it, as she started to put clothes neatly into it, as opposed to the way Booth was just cramming things in.

"Well I really don't think the dead people and their families care how much vacation time we have left," he reminded her, going into the bathroom to gather up their hygiene products.

Brennan's stomach turned at the thought of having to go back to D.C. and work on a murder case at that very moment. She's banked on having another whole day to prepare for going back to reality, and was a little more than disappointed when she found out she didn't.

"Can't they get someone else to work on it for today?" She asked.

"Bones," Booth kneeled down on the other side of her bag so they were at eye level as he put her soaps into the pocket on the side of her bag, "don't argue with me on this one."

"Why are you getting so defensive?" Brennan asked, seeing the way he was reacting to not only her, but the whole situation, "You're making it seem like this case is personal."

Booth zipped up her bag and pushed it gently towards her before she spoke.

"Three kids were found in a lake out in Virginia," he looked at her seriously when he explained it to her, "kids. Like, Parker's age, maybe younger, kids. Anyone who could or would kill a child needs to be locked up. It can't wait."

Brennan felt slightly guilty for getting annoyed at him, as he stood up and took the clothes he had tossed on the bed to get changed.

"I'm sorry," Brennan apologized, as he pulled off the shirt he'd slept in to replace it with a black t-shirt, "I know how you feel about child cases."

"It's alright, Bones, I shouldn't have snapped at you," he admitted, "and I'm sorry you didn't get your last day of vacation."

"It's not a problem," Brennan assured him

"I'll make it up to you."

"You don't have to do that."

"Again, it's not a matter of what I have to do," he smiled at her weakly, "it's a matter of what I want to do."


	65. Welcome Back

**A/N: Thank you all for being so kind and so patient. I know I haven't been updating as often, so I really am sorry about that. School. So very time consuming. **

**And I have a quick question for you all. Is anyone else's email not working? I haven't been getting emails from FF when I get reviews and such, and I was wondering if it was the website, or my email account. **

**Also, before I forget, I got a question asking if I have a Twitter account, and the answer is no, I don't. Sorry =[**

Chapter Sixty-Five:

"Welcome Back"

Brennan kneeled next to the three bodies, which were now laying side by side on the land just beside the lake, examining each of them as quickly and painlessly as possible. Booth stood over her, his hand shoved in his pockets and his sunglasses preventing her from being able to tell what he was feeling at the moment.

"Two males and one female," Brennan leaned back to sit on her heels, looking up at her partner, "they are in the adolescent stages. The boys are the same age, between the ages of ten and twelve and the girl is six or seven, maximum."

"Six years old," Booth took his hands out of his pockets to put them on his hips, in what Gordon Wyatt would have called an 'aggressive stance', "what the hell kind of person could kill a six year old?"

"There's plenty of very sick people who could," Brennan said, not realizing that she wasn't really helping at the moment, "I've been to Rwanda. There'd be classrooms there where there were dozens of children killed at their school desks," she pushed off the ground to stand up, pulling her gloves off, "I've identified corpses of infants who were thrown into ditches."

"Cheery," Booth's voice was bitterly sarcastic.

"I never said it was a good thing," Brennan lowered her voice, "it was quite the opposite. It was completely vile and unfathomable."

"Yeah," Booth tried his best not to take out the anger he was feeling towards whoever killed the children on Brennan, since he knew, in her own strange way, she was only trying to help, "come on, Bones. Let's get these bodies back to the Jeffersonian."

* * *

"Be very careful with the remains," Brennan called out, into the lab, "due to the decomposition and the fact that they are so small, they're very fragile."

"Doctor Brennan," Cam's voice was audibly surprised when she heard Brennan's voice from the short distance, "welcome back."

"Hello Doctor Saroyan," Brennan said quickly, not bothering to join her on the forensic platform yet, since she still needed to get Angela to search for any missing children in order to get an ID, "two males and one female, cause of death is unclear right now, and it probably won't be until Zack cleans the bones, but I know you need to do your autopsy so, go on and do so."

"Yes, nice to see you too," Cam smiled, rolling her eyes playfully at the clueless anthropologist.

"Is Angela in her office?" Brennan asked.

Cam nodded as Brennan quickly made her way to Angela's office, the sound of her heels clicking audible in the large, open lab until she reached the door, knocking softly before pulling the knob, finding Angela with her sketchbook and pastels, working on a piece. Angela's head jerked up when she heard her door open, her face lighting up into a smile as she stood from her chair and held her arms out in a hugging gesture.

"Sweetie," Angela couldn't contain the smile that came onto her face as she hugged her best friend tightly, "oh, sweetie," after a tight squeeze she let her go, holding tightly onto her shoulders, "how was vacation with Studly?"

"Cold," Brennan laughed lightly at her friend's enthusiasm, even though her words were very literal, "very cold. The power in Jared's vacation home went out, and we had no heat for almost twenty four hours. And we were snowed in the first night and the entire second day."

"How romantic," Angela nudged Brennan suggestively with her elbow, "I remember when that happened to Hodgins and I. We spent the time keeping each other warm, huddled up by the fire under a million blankets," she sighed at the memories, "those were good times."

"Oh, Booth and I kept each other very warm," Brennan couldn't help but smile.

Angela's expression looked a mixture of surprised and excited.

"You two slept together?"

"You sound surprised," Brennan observed, "you and Sweets are the only people who know that we sleep together. You shouldn't seem so shocked by it."

"Well, yeah, I know you two are together," Angela watched what she said, making sure Brennan wasn't offended, "but, you told me a couple days ago that you weren't feeling comfortable enough to take it to that level yet."

"When the power went out, I kind of had a bit of a breakdown," Brennan admitted, explaining the situation to her friend, "even though I knew I wasn't back in that basement, the cold and the dark combined brought back all the memories. But then, Booth held me close, and told me it was going to be okay, and I realized I didn't have to be afraid to be intimate with him. I realized nothing bad could come out of being intimate with Booth, because he'd never do anything that would, or could, harm me."

Angela smiled at Brennan's little speech.

"I'm sure he's glad to know that you trust him," Angela commented.

"He is," Brennan assured her, "and it's, a nice feeling. Being able to trust a single human being as much as I trust Booth. But it's also a little frightening."

"Why?" Angela had trouble following her logic.

"Because if I put all my trust into him the way I have been, and something happens that would break it," Brennan paused, trying to read Angela's reaction, "I don't think I'd be able to trust anyone like that again," she paused again, seeing her friend's smile fade slightly, "I love Booth, but if this goes wrong, it's going to go very wrong, and that's been bothering me for a while now."

"I don't think it will," Angela assured her, placing her hand on her shoulder, "I think if, by some chance, you guys do decide to stop seeing each other, maybe it'll be bad for a couple weeks, but I think you'll be able to stay friends."

"Booth and I already established that we would not be able to go back to being friends if our relationship doesn't work out."

"Why would you already rule it out? Anything's possible."

"Because, Ange, we're already in too deep," Brennan ruffled her hair nervously, "we can't go from what we are now back to just being friends. It doesn't work that way."

"Well, sure you won't be able to right away, but I think, after a little bit of time-"

"Ange, it would never work," Brennan's voice was quiet, and slightly ashamed, "we'd either wind up getting back together, or we'd just fight constantly. And I don't mean the way we bicker now. I mean actually fighting."

"I just don't know why you feel so strongly about this," Angela was slightly confused, "I'm friendly with plenty of my ex's."

"This is different," Brennan attempted to explain, even though what she was talking about wasn't easy to put into words, "I'm friendly with a few of my ex's as well. There was plenty I could call if I needed a sexual release. But with Booth, it's not just sex. If Booth and I broke up I wouldn't be able to just call him when I needed a release. There's too much of an emotional aspect to it. And you can't just turn emotions like that off."

"So you think you'll always love him, even if it doesn't work?"

"Maybe," Brennan was beginning to get frustrated by how no matter what she said, it wasn't coming out right, "but I don't want to think about that now. I'm not planning on us breaking up any time in the near future."

"Good, I'm happy to hear that," Angela said sincerely, a smile on her face, "so what do you need? Need me to draw another one of my death masks?"

Brennan had almost forgotten why she went into Angela's office in the first place once she got caught up in a conversation with her.

"Oh, I might a little later, but first we'll see if we can get a hit on the missing person's ad," Brennan said, her voice softening just slightly when the conversation turned to the dead children, "two boys, ages ten to twelve and a girl ages six to seven."

"Kids," Angela commented, her smile fading.

"Yeah," Brennan's voice was low, as Angela started to type.

It was a few minutes before Angela's computer beeped, indicating she got a hit.

"Bren, I think these may be the kids you're looking for," she told her, when she read the description of the children, "three siblings, twin boys James and Brian Wilson and a little girl Lily Wilson."

Brennan stepped behind her and peered over her shoulder, studying the facial structure of each of them, finding them to be very close with what was left of their corpses.

"These could very well be the children," Brennan told her, "I'll need to confirm with dental records, but their facial structures are strikingly similar."

Angela looked noticeably disturbed as she looked at the pictures of the three innocent and happy looking children.

"Who could do this?" She asked, rhetorically, "What kind of a monster could kill three small kids?"

"We'll catch him and get him in jail where he belongs," Brennan promised.

Angela simply nodded.

"I'll print these out and you can bring them to Booth, see what he thinks."

"You're just looking for an excuse to make me go see Booth," Brennan accused, a small smile coming to her face as the dark feel of the mood finally broke, "I should wait until we match the dental records before I go all the way over to the FBI."

"Hey, I'm only trying to get you a little afternoon delight, but, if you don't want to-"

"Ange, Booth and I are trying our best to be somewhat professional at work."

"Fine, fine," Angela held her hands up in defeat, "I'll just email it over."

Brennan bit her lip thoughtfully for a moment, seeing Angela pull up her email to send the file over to Booth.

"Wait," Brennan stopped her, "I'll bring it."

Angela smiled mischievously.

"Of course you will," she laughed.

* * *

Brennan knocked softly on the door to Booth's office before pulling it open, speaking to him as she opened the door, without even taking notice to the fact that he was on the phone.

"Angela found these three children on the missing person's ad and I believe-"

Brennan was cut off when he snapped at her and pointed to the phone, signaling for her to be quiet. She could tell by the expression he wore, and the way he was slumped over, that he was getting lectured on the other end. That along with the fact that he'd only say a few words before getting cut off and staying silent for another long pause.

"Yes," he said, dryly, to the person on the phone, "yes...yes, I-Rebecca, I never showed him anything," his voice was growing increasingly more annoyed, "no...I barely even look at the bodies...okay...okay...bye."

Booth hung up his phone with a huff, setting it on his desk and putting his head in his hands to draw in a long sigh and let it out in irritation.

"What happened?" Brennan asked, "Ex troubles?"

"Rebecca's mad at me because Parker's going through a phase where he's developed an obsession with dead bodies," Booth stood up and smoothed his jacket down, "I still don't see how that's my fault, but apparently it is. According to Rebecca, my job is the reason Parker likes to play cop and look for dead bodies in the backyard."

"Well, I'm not siding with Rebecca, but he is probably just emulating you when he pretends to be a homicide investigator," Brennan shrugged, "you can tell her she shouldn't be worried. It's completely normal for a young boy to idolize his father."

Booth huffed and pulled his hands through his hair in frustration before speaking.

"What's up, Bones? Why are you here?"

"I came to give you this," she held the paper out to him as he took it from her hand and looked over it, "Angela found it on the missing person's ad. We still need to confirm it, but I'm fairly confident that these are the children from the lake. The facial structure leads me to believe we've found our victims."

Booth's eyes scanned over the paper a few times, holding it in his right hand while he rested his chin in his left against the desk. After a minute or so, he put the paper flat on his desk and looked up at the woman standing in front of him.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" He asked.

Brennan was a little taken back by his rudeness.

"Well, what you usually do," she put her hand on the front of his desk to lean her weight against it, "I never understood the inner workings of the FBI, but what we usually do first is find the family and ask them about the victims, tell them we're sorry for their loss, you know, the usual."

"Bones, if you're not one hundred percent sure these are the kids, we can't go around telling families," he reminded her, "what if it turns out you were wrong?"

"Booth, I'm one of the best in my field. I'm rarely ever wrong."

"And here comes the ego."

"Why are you angry with me?"

Brennan rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, confused as to what his problem was.

"I'm not," Booth's voice was apologetic, as he stood up and stepped around the desk to pull her into a gentle hug, taking her by surprise, "It's just," he paused, resting his head against her shoulder, "it's just been a really long day."

Brennan, seeing that he needed comforting, ran the fingers of her right hand through his hair.

"I know," she assured him, "we spent half the day on a plane and half the day looking at dead children. I can understand why you're not in the best of moods."

Booth sighed and pressed a kiss to her fabric covered shoulder.

"You know what I did as soon as I got back from the crime scene?" He asked.

Brennan stayed quiet, giving him the silent signal to continue.

"I called Parker, and told him how much I love him. I told him I couldn't wait to see him this weekend, and that we're going to do all this great stuff," he kissed her shoulder again when her fingers ruffled comfortingly through his hair, "it's so easy to take things for granted, Bones."

"I know," Brennan whispered, dropping a kiss to his hair, "but Parker's fine."

"I really love that kid, you know," he reminded her, picking his head up from her shoulder to look at her, "when I looked at these pictures," he gestured towards the missing person's paper, "it just, hit me. When I looked at them, I just, saw Parker."

"Sweets would say that's normal."

Booth laughed half heartedly.

"I love you, Bones," he promised, "I'm not taking you for granted either."

"I love you too," she promised back, "and you don't have to worry about me."

"Because you wear my St. Christopher medal?" He smiled jokingly.

"That's half of it," she joked.

"Did you just make a joke?" Booth smiled, "that's funny, Bones."

"Hey, I have some good jokes," she informed him, "I just can't find the appropriate times to use them."

Booth chuckled and rolled his eyes playfully before Brennan kissed his cheek and unwrapped her arms from around him.

"I've gotta go," her voice was apologetic, "but I'll see you later."

Booth half smiled and gave her a small wave, as she waved back, opened the door of his office, and made her way back to the Jeffersonian.

* * *

It was eleven thirty at night when Booth unlocked the door to his apartment, half expecting to see Brennan sitting at the table with her laptop, working on her novel. The other half of him expected her to be asleep in his bedroom. But he was surprised to find the anthropologist curled up on the couch, a throw pillow under her head and a book resting open on her stomach.

Not wanting to wake the sleeping doctor, Booth quietly made his way over to her, picking up her book from her stomach, marking her page, and setting it quietly on the coffee table. He took a blanket that was resting over the back of the reclining chair and unfolded it, draping it carefully over Brennan's sleeping body.

Brennan only shifted in her sleep and made an unconscious noise when her body felt the blanket touch her skin, never waking up fully from her sleep. Booth leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, fixing the blanket so it was covering the tops of her arms before he went into his bedroom, leaving the door slightly open, just incase she woke up and wanted to join him.


	66. I Know What I'm Talking About

**A/N: Thanks again for the feedback everyone. =] My email's still not working, but I make sure to check and read my reviews on here. I hope it works again soon though. It was much more convenient that way. xD**

Chapter Sixty-Six

"I Know What I'm Talking About"

Brennan woke in the middle of the night, surprised when she felt she wasn't in Booth's bed. Her eyes opened abruptly when she felt the lack of person next to her, her heart starting to flutter as she glanced nervously around the dark living room.

"Booth?" She asked, hardly recognizing her small voice when she called out for her partner, pushing off the cushions with the palm of her hand to sit up straight.

The only sound she could hear was the wind tapping against the windows as it blew gently through the calm night. Brennan stood up quietly, making her way slowly down the small hallway that lead to Booth's bedroom.

"Booth?" Her voice was quiet, seeing that the door was slightly open. She nudged it open a little more so she could peek into his room, "Seeley?"

Brennan crept into the dark room, flicking on the lamp that rested on the night stand to see Booth's wide awake eyes looking back at her from where he laid in the bed.

"Hey," she whispered, as he moved over slightly to give her room to join him under the covers. Brennan peeled back the comforter and slid into bed next to him, "what are you still doing up?"

Booth turned onto his side so he was facing her, cupping the side of her face tenderly as she moved closer, placing her hand on his bicep.

"I'm having a hard time sleeping," he admitted, closing his eyes when she pressed her forehead to his, "I'm thinking too much."

Brennan moved her hand to touch the side of his face, the same way he was doing to her.

"Don't think about it," she whispered, knowing that he was referring to the case they were working on, "you're home. Think about the good things."

Brennan kissed corner of his mouth softly, feeling herself starting to get fairly upset as well. She wasn't used to seeing her partner so vulnerable, and, as strange as she knew it was, it scared her, in a way. If Booth couldn't be strong, then who could? He was, by far, the strongest person she knew.

"I'm sorry," he whispered back to her, after a long pause.

"For what?" Brennan asked, smoothing her hand over his jaw bone.

"I'm supposed to be helping you," he reminded her, "you have to testify in a trial soon. I should be trying to comfort you instead of stressing over a few kids I didn't even know."

"Booth, you comfort me all the time. You're always strong for me," she kissed his cheek comfortingly, "I get to be strong for you sometimes too."

Before he could respond, she tugged his face the tiny distance down to hers to connect their lips, both of them pouring all the emotion they were feeling from the stress of the case and the upcoming trial into the tender kiss. Her teeth pulled gently at his bottom lip, silently begging for better access to his mouth, sighing in satisfaction when his lips happily parted for her. Without hesitation, she arranged herself so she was straddling his waist, her tongue only exploring his mouth for a couple minutes before she disconnected their lips, her breath coming in short pants by this point as she leaned her forehead back against his. Her hands smoothed over his fabric covered chest, noticing, only then, that he was still in his button down shirt and dress pants, never bothering to change out of his work clothes.

"Why are you still dressed?" She whispered, her fingers plucking subconsciously at one of the buttons on his shirt.

"After work I just wanted to lay down," he told her, "I didn't bother to change."

"You can't be comfortable," her voice was still in a breathy whisper as she grabbed his hand, to unbutton right the cuff of his sleeve, moving to the left immediatly after she finished smoothing out the first one.

She untucked the light blue shirt from his dress pants, her hands smoothing down his sides.

"I'm fine," he promised, his hands stroking her waist as she moved to the buttons covering his chest, undoing them all smoothly and quickly, kissing the skin when it was uncovered.

He lifted his upper body so she could slide the fabric off his shoulders. After his shirt was tossed onto the floor next to his bed, Brennan reached for the hem of her own shirt, pulling it carefully over her head before tossing it aside to join his, leaning down and claiming his lips again with the same emotion as the last kiss. The only sounds audible in the silent room were the sounds of their lips blending together wetly and effortlessly, and the small desperate gasps of air each of them took when they needed to slide their lips off the other's, for only a few seconds, to catch their breath.

Brennan pulled gently on his belt buckle, able to feel the 'y' on the side of it pressing into her thumb when she twisted and tugged on it. She felt Booth's hands move to meet hers, pushing them gently away, giving her the impression that he wanted her to stop trying. When she was about to break their kiss to ask again, even beg if that was what it came down to, she felt him pop the belt buckle easily off, and heard the sound of his zipper being pulled slowly down.

When she finally had to breath more than just a small gasp of air between kisses, Brennan pulled away again, her fingers almost subconsciously unbuttoning the dress pants he'd started on.

"I love you," he promised, only to feel Brennan's finger move to his lips to silence him.

"Sh, sh, sh," she whispered, stroking his face once he was quiet, "don't talk."

She reached over to turn off the lamp, only to be stopped when Booth grabbed her arm gently.

"Don't. I want to look at you," he protested, only to be hushed by her again.

"No, don't look, just feel," she shook her arm out of his grasp to turn the light off anyway, her lips falling back to his in the pitch black room.

Even though Booth was never the type of guy who liked to make love with the lights off, since he always wanted to look at the woman he loved when they attempted to break the laws of physics, he didn't mind it that night. That night was more about comfort than pleasure for both of them. Just feeling her body joined with his was enough comfort for him, even when he couldn't look into her eyes as he declared his love for her in soft panting whispers, showering the top of her hair with gentle kisses. And after they made love, they still didn't say anything other than 'I love you', as Brennan curled into his chest, feeling Booth's arm tighten around her shoulders as he held her close, stroking her hair softly. The feeling of her warm body pressed close to his, and the sound of her soft panting breaths in his ear as she drifted off, finally lulled him to sleep for the first time that night.

* * *

"We're very sorry for your loss Mrs. Wilson," Booth said honestly to the mother of the three victims as she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, still having that glazed over look, as if the harsh reality of what was going on hadn't hit her yet.

Kimberly Wilson picked up the glass of water Booth had offered her when she first entered the Hoover building with a shaky hand at took a small sip to wet her throat.

"I don't understand how this could happen," she sniffed, "they were only children. What could they have possibly done?" She looked up at Booth with desperate eyes, "Who did this to my babies, Agent Booth?"

"We still aren't sure Mrs. Wilson, but Doctor Brennan and I are going to do everything in our power to find out," he promised her, "we won't stop until we get justice for them."

Brennan wasn't sure if Booth should have been being so nice to the mother yet, since she knew, in many child cases, it turned out that the parents were the ones who killed them, just because they couldn't take the stress anymore, or had postpartum depression. She didn't want him getting too close to the mother until they knew for certain that it wasn't her, even though Brennan had a pretty strong feeling that it wasn't.

"Do you know anybody who would want to hurt your children, Mrs. Wilson?" Brennan finally asked, when she saw that Booth wasn't going to.

Kimberly just shook her head and sniffed again, trying her best to hold back the tears that wanted to come tumbling down her cheeks again.

"They were only children, they didn't have any enemies."

"What about any enemies of yours? Or of your older son's?" Brennan asked.

"Robert doesn't have any enemies either, and sure, there's probably people who don't like me, but nobody so horrible that they would kill three innocent children because of it," Kimberly responded, not meaning to snap at Brennan, but just feeling overwhelmed.

"We're going to need to talk to Robert too," Booth told her, his voice low, not wanting to freak her out, since she already seemed on edge from everything she'd just been told.

Kimberly nodded and took another small sip of her water.

"Please, Agent Booth, just, don't say anything that could hurt him," she pleaded with him, looking back up at him with her pleading eyes, "he's all I have left."

Booth had an almost dead look in his eyes when he looked back at her.

"We just want to ask him a few questions, that's all," he promised.

Kimberly looked reluctant to give them her permission, but sighed and nodded anyway. Booth thanked her before Brennan opened the door and stepped out of the conference room, holding the door open for her partner to join her back in the open hallway.

"I don't think it was her," Brennan told him once they started to walk back out to where Robert Wilson was waiting for his mother, having walked out of the room when he heard the news about his siblings, unable to handle it just then.

"Yeah, neither do I," Booth agreed, "but something about the son is rubbing me the wrong way."

"Why? Did you see how horrified he was when he found out they were dead?" Brennan asked, not seeing where his 'gut feeling' was coming from this time, "either he's a very good actor, or he didn't know."

"No, I know he didn't know, I don't think he did it," Booth explained, "but he seemed a little too horrified, like he was feeling guilty. Maybe he knew who did it, or at least thinks he knows who it was."

"Can't he just be upset that his three young siblings are dead?" She questioned him, getting slightly annoyed by his 'gut feeling'.

"Bones," he stopped, turning to face her to look at her seriously, "trust me. I know what I'm talking about. Something wasn't right about the way he reacted."

Brennan bit the inside of her lip, knowing that she should probably take his word for it, since he was the one who was good at reading people after all. She was going to tell him something like 'fine, do what you want', or maybe, if she felt up to being a little kinder, she'd just agree with him, but she didn't have time before they reached Robert Wilson, who was sitting and looking at his hands nervously.

"Robert?" Booth asked, grabbing the fifteen year old's attention away from his hands.

"A-Agent Booth," the boy stuttered, smoothing down the fabric of his t-shirt, "where's my mom? Is she coming out?"

"You're mom's still in the conference room," Booth told him, keeping his voice calm and level, making sure he didn't scare him more than he already was, "if you can come into my office with Doctor Brennan and I, we just want to ask you a few questions about your brothers and sister."

Robert's pupils dilated when he heard the words, shaking his head quickly.

"There's, nothing I can tell you, Agent Booth," he got a little more defensive than he needed to be, according to Booth, "I don't know what happened. Whatever happened was just a mistake. Just a horrible mistake."

"Listen, kid," Booth was losing his patience quickly, "if you know anything, and I mean anything about what happened to James, Brian, and Lily Wilson, you better start talking before-"

"Booth," Brennan cut him off sharply, her voice in a whispering hiss as she turned to him, "let me handle this."

Both of them knew that, out of the two of them, Brennan was certainly not the people person. She'd barely been able to communicate with everyday people before she met Booth, so he was having a hard time believing that she was going to be able to coax information out of this scared and suspicious fifteen year old.

"Robert," Brennan took a seat next to the teenager, placing a hand comfortingly on his shoulder, "I know this is scary, and I know it's overwhelming, but if you know anything about what might have happened to your siblings, you have to tell Agent Booth. We may never be able to get justice for them if you don't."

He looked up at Brennan with tears in his eyes, looking scared, alone, and confused, the look that Brennan knew all too well from her childhood. The look she used to see every time she looked in the mirror.

"I loved them," his voice cracked, a tear trickling down his cheek, "I loved them more than anything."

"I know you did," Brennan rubbed his shoulder in an attempt to comfort them, "which is why you have to tell us what you know."

Robert paused, wiping the tear quickly off his cheek as he looked back down at the floor.

"I didn't kill them," he swore, taking a long pause before he spoke again, "but I'm the reason they're dead."

**Ooh, cliffie. Do you all hate me now? xD**


	67. You're Not Alone

**A/N: Again, thank you all for the reviews, favorites, story alerts, ect, ect. =] And thank you to CrayonClown for helping me figure out what was going on with my email. I fixed it now, incase you were all wondering. xD**

Chapter Sixty-Seven:

"You're Not Alone"

"I got caught up with the wrong crowd," Robert Wilson was sitting at the table in the interrogation room now, Booth leaning his weight on the metal table where he stood next to Brennan, who was sitting across from the teenager, "I didn't know how screwed up they really were when I first started hanging out with them. They seemed cool at first, you know?"

"No, Robert, I don't know," Booth's tone was harsh.

Brennan glared up at her partner, the anger burning inside her every time he spoke harshly or nastily Robert, who was making it very clear that he was scared and didn't want to be there. She didn't know why Booth had to take him here. Couldn't he have just taken him to his office like he was going to in the first place? Brennan huffed angrily at the thoughts, wondering how the man she loved could be so terrible and cold hearted sometimes.

"Well they were real cool to me. They asked me if I wanted to play some ball with them after school one day, so yeah, I said I would," Robert attempted to explain, feeling slightly intimidated by the broad man standing over him, "after that we started hanging out a lot after school. And then one day, when we were cutting through the woods, one of the guys thought it would be fun to get twisted and wander around town stoned."

"And what's this 'guy's name?" Booth asked.

"Jonathon," he replied.

"Oh, Jonathon, that narrows it down," Booth's voice was bitterly sarcastic as he leaned his weight against the hand he had resting on the metal table, leaning closer to Robert to speak sharply to him, "word of advice, pal, when I ask you someone's name, you give me their first _and_ last name. Because _Jonathon_ is not going to help my investigation. So let's try this again."

The teenager had to swallow the lump that rose in his throat before he spoke again, able to get the words out, despite the fear and intimidation the FBI agent was making him feel.

"Jonathon Summers," Robert provided the agent with the friend's names when he asked, hoping that would show him that he was serious about this, and didn't do anything to his siblings, "that was the first day I ever smoked crack. I was fourteen."

"Fourteen? And you were smoking crack in the back of the woods?" Booth rolled his eyes, chuckling darkly, "When I was fourteen I was taking walks to the convenience store with my friends. Playing football at the park. Doing after school activities."

"Like I said, I got mixed up with the wrong people," Robert mumbled, "but anyway, I got hooked, and got my own dealer. But I've been clean for almost five months now."

"Your mother must be so proud," Booth interrupted, when he paused at the end of his sentence.

"Booth," Brennan scolded him, intense anger and annoyance audible in her voice, "let the boy talk."

Robert half smiled appreciatively at Brennan before he continued, seeing Booth glance at his partner with a half irritated and half confused expression. Brennan took notice to how the arms she loved having wrapped around her waist were threatening to tear the fabric of his dress shirt and suit jacket when he leaned forward in anger, gripping the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles went white. The same knuckles that were brushing tenderly across her cheek when they made love the night prior. The observation caused her to shudder. How could he go from being so sweet, gentle, vulnerable, and affectionate, to being so cold hearted and angry? People like Robert would probably never understand how she could love him the way she did.

"I owed my dealer a few hundred bucks, and I told him I'd pay him, but about a month ago, he called me screaming and cursing, saying that I better give him the money or I'd be sorry. I finally just told him the truth, that he was never getting that five hundred bucks, and he just snapped. He told me he'd make me pay, hard. And I think," he paused when his voice cracked with his newly built up tears, "Maybe this is how he's making me pay. By killing my little siblings.

"Or maybe you killed your siblings because they were going to tell mom that her oldest son's a crack head," Booth pointed out.

"They were twelve and six, they didn't even know," Robert looked up at him with pleading eyes, "Agent Booth I swear on my life, I didn't kill them. I would never hurt them."

"I believe you," Brennan cut in, looking down at him comfortingly.

"Bones," Booth sounded highly annoyed when Brennan comforted the suspect.

"Booth, I understand you don't think Robert's a good person, and you don't like him, for whatever reason, but you're wasting time," she looked at her partner seriously, "you and I both know he didn't do it, so just take the information he gave you and actually try to catch the murderer."

Booth glanced from his partner back to the teenager sitting at the table beside him, his eyes focused on the wall as he contemplated taking Brennan's advice. Brennan knew that look anywhere. It was the 'I'm thinking about listening to you, but I'm not thrilled about it' look.

"What's your drug dealer's name?" He finally asked, deciding to listen to his partner and let the kid go, since he knew it, more than likely, wasn't him.

"Donovan Bradshaw," he answered, giving the man's last name without hesitation that time, since he didn't want to receive another lecture from Booth.

Booth ran his hand over the rough stubble on his chin in thought.

"You know, I was thinking about arresting you for something, just because, well, I really don't like you," he paused when Robert's pupils dilated in fear, "but, there's really nothing I can arrest you for, and you told me what I needed to know, so I'm gonna be nice and let you go."

Robert breathed a sigh of relief when he heard he was allowed to leave, since, for a little while, he was convinced that Booth really was going to arrest him for no reason. He had to wonder if Booth treated all his suspects like that, or if he really just hated him that much.

"Thank you, so much, Agent Booth," Robert breathed.

"Alright, don't get all emotional on me," Booth made sure to stay stern, since he still wasn't one hundred percent sure about the fifteen year old, "because, if I find out you're lying to me," he leaned down to speak to him, his voice low and serious, "we're going to have serious problems. Do you understand me?"

Robert nodded, but Booth wasn't satisfied.

"Look at me," Booth instructed him, as Robert glanced nervously at the bigger, older man, who, he was fairly sure, wanted to kill him, "do I look like I'm joking?"

"No sir," he shook his head in response.

"Good, glad to know we have an understanding, kid," he patted him on the shoulder, causing him to nearly jump out of his chair, before he moved to open the door to the interrogation room, "now get going, before I change my mind about letting you go."

* * *

"So, yeah, if drugs were legal they could be sold safely and in moderation, but then people would just be running around blatantly getting high and causing trouble," Booth was basically having a conversation with himself as he drove, due to the fact that Brennan seemed disinterested and was looking out the window when he spoke, "hello? Bones? I'm trying to have a conversation with you."

"You know how I feel about legalizing drugs, we've discussed it before," she responded flatly, not looking away from the scenery passing by outside.

"Well, yeah, but I figured we could have a nice healthy debate," Booth shrugged his shoulders, waiting for a response, but figuring that after a few moments of silence, he wasn't going to get one, "you know, I'd appreciate it if you at least pretended to be on my side."

"I'm not on your side," Brennan's voice seemed to get more animated, as she finally looked at him for the first time since they got in the car, "you were mean. Unnecessarily harsh. I understand cases like this upset you, but you can't just pick out someone you think is guilty, based on your inaccurate 'gut', and mentally torture them."

"Mentally torture?" He questioned her choice in words, "_now_ who's being dramatic?"

"Yes, it's torture, Booth," her voice was sharp as she spoke to him, "I know how it feels to have someone constantly reminding you that someone you care about is dead, trying to convince you, over and over, that their death was your fault. It's one of the worst ways you can get into someone's head, and I'm not going to let you do it, because you're a better man than that. You're a better man than him."

"Don't compare me to Villeda," Booth lowered his voice, tightening his grip on the steering wheel, "I'm not anything like him, and you know that."

"You're acting like him!" She raised her voice just slightly.

Brennan hadn't realized how badly it stung when she compared him to the man who'd kidnaped and tortured her, the one man who she probably hated the most. Booth couldn't stand the fact that she thought he and Villeda had the same qualities. Even though she said she knew he was a better man than him, that wasn't saying much. Anyone who didn't tie people up in their basement and abuse them was better than Villeda.

"Don't say that," he whispered.

"Why?" She asked, lowering her voice as well, "it's true."

"No, Bones, it's not true," they switched up roles when Booth raised his voice, making her the calm one and him the frantic one, "what I did to Robert Wilson and what Villeda did to you are completely different. I would never hurt you, Bones. Not physically, not emotionally. I would never do what Villeda did."

"Booth, pull over, you're upset," Brennan kept her tone gentle.

"I'm not pulling over," he murmured, his voice lowering once again.

"You can't drive like this."

"I'm fine, Bones."

Brennan couldn't help but notice how the car had sped up once they started arguing, and she knew Booth wasn't focused on the road. She knew, by the way he gripped the steering wheel and clenched his jaw, that he was too tense to be driving. This all just seemed like an accident waiting to happen, and she knew there was only one thing that would get him to listen to her.

"Booth," she whispered in a barely audible voice, the desperation in her tone apparent, "you're scaring me."

Brennan could see his shoulders relax slightly as he pulled the SUV onto the side of the road, putting it in park before he put his head in his hands, sighing deeply. She placed a comforting hand on her partner's shoulder, rubbing it softly, her silent way of apologizing. Booth picked his head up and looked over at her when she touched him.

"You really think I'm like Villeda?" He asked.

"No," Brennan whispered, slightly ashamed, moving the hand that was on his shoulder to stroke his face gently, "I don't."

When he didn't respond, Brennan moved her other hand to hold his face, pulling his head gently down to her level to press their foreheads together comfortingly. Booth moved his hands to hold her face as well, almost as if it was a natural reaction.

"I'm not him," he whispered, his hands stroking the sides of her face tenderly.

"I know," Brennan assured him, pressing her nose to his, her hands moving into his hair.

"I'm not Villeda," he promised again, not pausing the gentle caresses to her skin.

Brennan could hear his voice crack with emotion when he spoke, causing her chest to ache in a mixture of guilt and sympathy. Her hands moved back to cup his face, as she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see her partner cry, since she knew it would only result in her crying with him. His eyes closed as well when hers did, his breathing getting deeper.

"I can't do this alone," Booth whispered, his breath caressing her lips, his voice making it clear to her that he was on the verge of tears, a rare occurrence for him, "I don't know why this case is hitting me so hard, but I," he paused to swallow the ache in his throat, "I need you on my side, Bones. I need to fall asleep and wake up next to you. I need to know that I have you. I can't go through this one alone."

Brennan trapped the tears that were stinging her eyes when she heard Booth's confession locked behind her eyelids, rubbing the bridge of her nose comfortingly against his, keeping their faces close and their foreheads pressed together.

"You're not alone," she promised, her thumbs stroking his jaw bone softly, "you won't have to go through this alone," she sniffed, feeling Booth's nose rub against hers to comfort her, the same way she did to him, "you have me, Booth. I'm yours."

"You're mine," he whispered in a breathy voice.

"I'm yours," Brennan assured him, willing to just hold his face tenderly to hers as long as he needed, in order to, not only comfort him, but to show him that she was, in fact, his, and that he didn't have to worry about waking up alone anymore.


	68. What Happens In The Storage Room

**A/N: For the billionth time, I can't thank you all enough for being so kind and giving me all the different kinds of feedback that I'm too tired/lazy to write out. xD I hope you guys really do know how much I appreciate it.**

**Here's a little off topic something-something for you all. I heard the song "She Will Be Loved" in the car this afternoon, and I was like "Oh my God this song is perfect for Brennan and Booth". xD It was the first time I noticed it, but the lyrics are so fitting for them. And then I worried about myself because I really do have an family's gonna have an intervention for me soon enough. xD And I'm actually working on a oneshot inspired by that song now, so you can look out for that one. =]**

**Anway, here's crossing my fingers that you all won't hate me after this chapter.**

Chapter Sixty-Eight:

"What Happens in the Storage Room"

"Where's Bones?" Booth's voice echoed through the lab, grabbing the attention of the majority of the people working.

Even thought mostly everyone in the lab heard him, they all seemed to ignore him, except for Angela, who trotted over to him excitedly, since she hadn't seen him since he and Brennan came back from Colorado.

"Hi, Booth," she smiled radiantly.

"Hey," he smiled back at the artist, giving her a quick, friendly, hug when she held her arms out to him, inviting him into a welcoming hug, "do you know where Bones is? She called me and told me to come here. She said it was important."

"Yeah she went down to the old Egyptian storage room," Angela said, a confused look forming on her face at her own words, "to be honest, I have no idea why she needed to go down there in the first place, but, that's where she told me she'd be," she paused, shrugging the thought off, "how's it going between you two anyway?"

"Not bad," he told her, rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort, since he was never really one who liked to discuss his relationships with other people, "better than not bad. We haven't been seeing much of each other since this case started, because we're both busy with working on it, but other than that I'd say it's going pretty well."

"Good," Angela said sincerely, smiling again before she shook her head at herself, "sorry, you're not here to talk to me. Go, get Brennan, save the world."

Booth laughed at her exaggeration, placing a hand on her shoulder before he turned and walked the distance to the storage room. When he opened the door and stepped inside, descending the small flight of stairs leading into the basement, he was slightly overwhelmed by all the, what he considered to be junk, piled up.

"Bones?" He called out, not seeing any sign of his partner as he stepped over a replica of some ancient Egyptian art, cursing under his breath when he had to watch his step every time he moved to make sure he didn't knock anything over or misplace something, "Bones, where the hell are you?"

"I'm over here," he heard her voice from a little ways away.

He walked towards her voice, finding the easiest way to get to her without disturbing any of the artifacts that were placed less than neatly around the basement area.

"Am I allowed to touch this stuff?" He asked, turning his shoulders to avoid them bumping into a replica statue.

"I'd have to advise against it," her voice sounded closer now, since he was making his way towards her, but she didn't sound like she was making any attempt to move, "I don't think anyone would be angry, but you're not very coordinated. You might break something."

"I'm not clumsy," he muttered defensively, growing slightly annoyed when he could tell she wasn't moving, and was making him do all the work, "come on, Bones, help me out here. Meet me half way or something. Don't just make me wander around."

"You're close, just turn to your left," she instructed with a small laugh.

Booth turned to his left, surprised when he saw Brennan standing up straight with her hands on her hips, a stern look on her face. Obviously, her playful tone wasn't genuine at all. She was only trying to lure him to her, make it sound like she was happy to see him, which, he figured out when he saw the look she wore, she obviously wasn't.

"Hey," he tried, using the charm smile that Brennan knew so well, and hated so very much, as he stepped closer to her, holding out his arms to offer her a hug.

Brennan didn't budge at the offer, keeping her eyes locked on his and her expression blank.

"You. Rat. Bastard," she spoke slowly, swatting at his out stretched arms with her right hand, "don't try to embrace me now!"

"Woah, simmer down, Bones," he dropped his arms and took a step away from the angry anthropologist, "just, take a deep breath, and calm down."

"Calm down?" She asked, her voice indicating that she was anything but calm, "when were you planning on telling me, huh?"

"Bones, I swear, I was gonna tell you," he promised, "I just, I didn't want you to get freaked out, okay? I kept it from you for your own good. You should appreciate that."

"Oh, don't you _dare_ try to turn this around," she warned, pointing an accusing finger at him, stepping closer to look into his eyes, seeming to almost glare right through them. She went to continue scolding him, but decided against it, only attempting to end it there, with the words she was saving until the end of her lecture, "you're a liar, Booth."

She turned on her heel, making her way towards the back of the storage room to sort through some artifacts, and get her mind off of how angry she was with her partner.

"I didn't lie!" Booth exclaimed, following her, keeping pace with her long, hasty, steps, "I just didn't tell everything I knew, and I-" he paused when he felt like she was more focused on walking than listening to him, "would you listen to me?"

Brennan stopped abruptly and turned back towards him, not looking any more relaxed than she had a few seconds prior.

"Give me one good reason why I should," she practically hissed.

"Because I did this for you, Bones," Booth made the tone of his voice more stern when he saw he wasn't getting through to her, "after everything Villeda did to you, I wasn't going to tell you he got out on bail because I didn't want you to be afraid. I knew if you knew you'd be scared that he was going to come after you again, so I just didn't let you know. I was protecting you, Temperance. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"What I want is for you to not keep me in the dark!" She shuddered when he hissed her first name, knowing he was serious, and probably, by that point, as mad as she was, "that was something I deserved to know. I'd be able to handle it. He's on house arrest for the time being. There's nothing for me to be afraid of."

"Fine. You know what? I'll just tell you everything from now on, no matter how much it'll hurt you," his voice had a bitterness to it that made Brennan's heart ache just slightly when he stepped closer to her, "so here it is. Villeda's lawyer thinks you're a liar, she got him out on bail until the trial, and she's planning on tearing you apart when you get onto the stand. Are you happy? Is that what you wanted to know?"

"Yes, at least now I know you're being honest with me."

"You know, that was supposed to be sarcasm, Bones."

"Well obviously it wasn't very good sarcasm."

"Ugh, you make me so _angry_ sometimes!"

"You know what makes _me_ angry? When people treat me like a child."

"I'm not treating you like a child, I'm treating you like someone who needs protecting."

They hadn't realized that as their loud argument escalated, they were stepping closer to each other, until Brennan could feel her partner's breath on her lips. She glared at him, looking up into his eyes, which, she noticed lately, seemed to be a darker shade of brown when he was angry. Even though it was never a good thing when his eyes were that color, she couldn't help but admire them. They were practically black, with just a tiny tint of brown, and, for some reason, it always managed to fascinate her. So instead of lashing back at him, saying something that would hurt, she grabbed his face between her hands and crushed her lips to his.

The kiss was anything but gentle, their mouths pressed roughly together, nipping and sucking at the other's lips until a small noise signaled their submission. Brennan moved one hand off of his face to grab his tie, pulling him with her while she moved backwards, not allowing their lips to disconnect in the process. When she felt the backs of her knees bump into the mattress on the replica of Cleopatra's bed, she took it as a signal, and pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders before she started to loosen his tie.

Brennan half expected him to push her away, or stop her, but instead, he only moved his hands to help her, getting the silk tie off in a matter of seconds, noticing that Brennan had already started on the buttons of his shirt when he took over the duty of removing his tie.

"Tell me to stop," he growled between kisses, but didn't make any attempt at stopping her, yanking his tie out of the collar of his shirt and letting it flutter to the floor, "Tell me you don't want me."

Brennan shook her head, pulling on his bottom lip with her teeth. There was no way in hell she was telling him she didn't want him. Not now.

"Make love to me," Brennan murmured against his lips, swiftly parting the fabric of his shirt once it was unbuttoned.

Booth only responded by yanking the fabric of her shirt up, managing to pull the long sleeved v-neck and the white tank top underneath off at the same time. Brennan moved to lay on the old replica bed, taking notice to the way it creaked with the added weight of both of them when he joined her, continuing his assault on her mouth.

"I want you," Brennan mumbled after about only another minute of kissing him, pushing the shirt off his shoulders, "make love to me," she whimpered in desire, "make love to me, Booth."

"I want you," Booth murmured against her lips, mirroring her words, moving his mouth from hers to kiss down her neck as she tilted her head to give him more space to work with. He mumbled incoherent words against her neck between kisses after a few minutes of only the sound of their breathing filling the basement, the feeling of her nails trailing down his chest jumbling the words around in his head. "We have to...the door...the squints...not" he finally got just a small fragment of a sentence out, "not here."

"Here," she nodded in confirmation, too distracted by the feeling of his mouth against her skin to notice he was telling her they couldn't, "now."

Booth shook his head, but made no indication that he was planning on stopping.

"We'll get caught," he mumbled, burying his face in the crook of her neck to catch his breath.

Brennan was the one to shake her head now.

"No," she assured him, tugging gently on his hair to encourage him to get back to kissing her, "Hodgins and Angela used to come down here all the time, so there's no need to worry. What happens in the storage room," she paused to breathe, pressing soft kisses to his hairline "stays in the storage room."

Brennan smiled wickedly when Booth moved back up so they were face to face once again.

"Thank God," he mumbled, pressing his lips hastily back to hers, "Because, honestly, I don't think I would have even been able to wait."

* * *

"Angie," Hodgins made his presence known to his girlfriend, holding up a file, "where's Doctor B? I've got something for her."

"She went down to storage," she told him, having to wonder why everyone was asking her where Brennan was that day, "but then again, she went down there a while ago. And then, Booth came, and he went to find her, but I don't think either of them came back yet."

"Should I go see if they're okay?" Hodgins asked, "And then give this to Brennan in the process?"

Angela thought about it for a minute, when all of a sudden, she pieced things together.

"No way," she concluded, grabbing the file out of her boyfriend's hand, "remember why we used to go down to the storage room? Brennan could totally be getting some down there."

"And wouldn't that be a bad thing?" Hodgins furrowed an eyebrow in confusion.

"Sex is never a bad thing, baby."

"Do you remember why we _stopped_ going to the storage room for our lunch breaks?"

"Oh," Angela's smile faded, as she ruffled her hair nervously, "crap."

"I'd call Brennan and tell her but I'm not even supposed to know they're dating," Hodgins attempted to think of an alternate solution, "damn. I really don't want Brennan to get a new partner. I didn't even like Booth when they first started working together. I really don't want to break in a new bureaucratic, idiot, FBI agent."

"Don't worry, I'll call Bren and warn her," Angela said, opening her phone and pressing the number she had Brennan under on her speed dial.

"Can you tell her I have an important piece of-"

"Sh!" Angela cut him off, listening to the ringing on the other end of the line.

There was silence between the two for a minute before Angela flipped her phone shut.

"She didn't pick up," she informed Hodgins, stuffing her phone back into the pocket of her lab coat, "let's just hope they're having a serious conversation."

"I doubt it," Hodgins said, honestly.

Angela chewed her bottom lip nervously.

"Well, you know Brennan," she tried to find a way to calm her nerves for her friend, "she doesn't really do the whole 'sex at work thing', so there's probably nothing going on," she sounded like she was trying to assure herself, rather than assuring Hodgins, "yeah, Brennan wouldn't even consider risking getting caught. They're probably just talking."

And even though she said the word 'probably' she knew they, more than likely, were doing much more than talking.

* * *

"Mmm," Booth mumbled, sitting up breathlessly as he reached for his clothes, which were, at this point, strewn across the floor beside the bed, "I have to go."

Brennan grabbed his arm with a trembling hand to stop the action, pulling him back to her so she could kiss gently along his bicep.

"No," she whispered, moving her lips to his shoulder blade, "stay."

"I can't," Booth laughed lightly, goose bumps popping up on his skin, which was just slightly damp with sweat when she blew gently on the wet patches left by her lips, "Bones, you're killing me," he groaned when her tongue traced over the path she blew on, and he turned to sit up straight, pulling her into his lap so her back was against his chest and she could no longer tease his shoulder blade, "I have to go back to work."

"At least wait until you can breathe," Brennan tried to persuade him, pushing her hair over one shoulder, leaving the other available to be kissed.

"Fair enough," Booth compromised, pressing his lips gently to her exposed shoulder, kissing slowly over it, "but as soon as I catch my breath, I gotta go."

"Rat bastard," she muttered, reaching behind her to wrap her arm around her partner's neck, holding him close to her as she tilted her head back to rest against his shoulder.

"What'd I do now?" Booth had to laugh against her skin at how she was still pretending to be mad at him, when she so obviously was not.

"You're trying to leave," she complained, rolling her head to the side so she could kiss the side of his throat, "you can't just get your release and then leave like I'm just an outlet for your primal urges."

"Don't get all squinty on me, okay? With the primal urges and blah, blah, blah," he mumbled, his tongue flicking over the outer shell of her ear before dissolving into a soft kiss, "I'm not trying to leave because I want to. I actually have this thing called a job."

"I have a job," Brennan reminded him, a small moan slipping through her lips at his actions, "stop. Stop doing that," she demanded, "no tongue, please."

"What's the matter?" He asked, kissing her earlobe softly, "you usually love that."

"I do," she confirmed, "which is why you can't do it now. Because I'll wind up getting aroused again and I don't think we have time for another go round."

"No, we definitely don't," he agreed, "we don't even have time to be doing this. Laying here. I shouldn't even be here right now."

Brennan let out a small, breathy, laugh as she rolled her head against his shoulder, a small smile present on her face. She took in a deep breath when she felt Booth's nose nuzzle gently against her hair.

"I'm still mad at you," she informed him, feeling his breath touch her temple when he laughed at her statement.

"You don't seem very mad," he pointed out.

"I am," she assured him, "I'm angry with you. I'm just physically satisfied right now, so you can't tell."

"Well we shouldn't have done this then," he furrowed his eyebrows when she opened her eyes to peek up at him, "remember that whole conversation we had with Sweets? About how we can't use sex as a way to solve our problems?"

"Hey, you participated just as much as I did," she reminded him, "and since when do you listen to Sweets anyway? You think he's an idiotic child."

"He's twelve, but he's a smart twelve year old," he told her, "I kind of agree with him on that. If we want to make this work, for a long period of time, we can't just use sex as a method of fixing things. Because eventually that's not gonna be enough anymore."

"I don't know about you, but I don't think I'll ever tire of our intercourse," Brennan smirked, obviously not taking this as seriously as he was, which annoyed him just a little bit, "I think sex will be an acceptable answer to our problems for a long time."

"Bones, I'm not joking," he said seriously.

"Neither am I."

Booth huffed slightly and shifted so he could slip out from where her weight was rested against his chest, reached over the bed to grab his clothes

"I have to go," he mumbled quietly, seeing that she wasn't going to take him seriously at the moment.

"Booth," Brennan complained, feeling a small pain in her chest when he left her alone in the replica bed, "why are you leaving?"

"I can breathe again," he told her, "we agreed once I could breathe again that I'd go back to work. And you're mad at me anyway, remember?"

"I'm not _that_ mad at you," Brennan muttered, rolling her eyes, "don't be melodramatic."

"Bones, I'm not being dramatic, I have to go back to work," he leaned down to kiss her forehead tenderly once he was re-dressed, "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay," Brennan sounded unsure as he pressed a second kiss to her forehead, the stubble of his beard scratching the sensitive skin there, a feeling that was comforting to her recently.

She watched as he pulled his jacket back over his shoulders at the same time as he was making his way back through the storage room to leave the Jeffersonian, and her. Brennan wasn't sure why, but she had a strange feeling of abandonment when she watched him leave, sitting bare and lonely in that creaky replica bed, pulling the sheets over her shoulders when she shivered, due to the lack of the extra body heat that was next to her only a few seconds prior.


	69. Nobody's Perfect

**A/N: Hello everyone. =] Sorry I haven't updated in a little while. Every time I go to write lately, I realize how tired I actually am. xD So here's the next chapter, without further ado. So, enjoy. =]**

**And incase I don't update again before Thursday, I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving. =]**

Chapter Sixty-Nine:

"Nobody's Perfect"

The first thing Brennan heard when she opened the door to Booth's apartment was loud music, clearly heard from the front of the house from where it was playing in his bedroom. Wincing in surprise, she made her way towards his bedroom to see what was going on, the lyrics and beat echoing crystal clearly through the hallway.

_It's not like you to say sorry_

_I was waiting on a different story_

"Booth?" Brennan called loudly, doubting he could hear her from the hallway.

_This time I'm mistaken_

_For handing you a heart worth breakin'_

She saw that the door was open a crack, so she took it upon herself to nudge it the rest of the way open, seeing her partner doing push-up after push-up in his t-shirt and jeans, seeming too lost in his workout and music to even notice Brennan standing in the doorway.

_I've been wrong, I've been down_

_been to the bottom of every bottle._

Brennan leaned against the doorframe, admiring the way the muscles in his back flexed when he worked them. Oh, how she loved watching him work out. It made him that much more attractive in her eyes.

_These five words in my head_

_scream are we having fun yet?_

_Yet, yet, yet, no, no._

_Yet, yet, yet, no, no._

"Booth?" She tried again, attempting to raise her voice above the music, "Booth?"

_It's not like you didn't know that._

_I said-_

Brennan pressed the stop button on the radio when she realized it was the only way she was going to get his attention, standing with her hand on her hip next to the radio when Booth finished his last push up and looked to see what happened to the music.

"Woah," he was a little startled to see Brennan peering over him, "how long have you been standing there? I didn't even hear you come in."

He shifted into a seated position on the floor, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his forearm.

"A few seconds," Brennan shrugged, her fingers tracing over the wood of the dresser that the radio was resting on, "you're breathing is labored," she observed, "and you're sweating."

"That's what happens when you work out," Booth laughed lightly.

Brennan laughed lightly at her lack of observation, turning the radio back on, but lowering it to a normal volume before sinking down to her knees in front of him so they were close to being at eye level with one another. Booth smiled brightly at her, as if nothing even happened that afternoon. As if they didn't fight, then have make-up sex, then argue again. He just, smiled. The charm smile.

"Are you still angry at me from this afternoon?" Brennan asked.

"I should be the one asking you that," Booth told her, wiping another drop of sweat off his forehead, "I was never mad at you. You were mad at me. Or at least you said you were."

Brennan shrugged.

"I was," she said, honestly, "I was mad that you didn't tell me about Villeda's release from jail. I angry at the fact that you think I'm so weak. And I was upset when you shouted at me."

"Bones, I'm sorry," Booth said sincerely and ashamedly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand in discomfort with her confrontation, "I shouldn't have yelled at you. I kind of, lost my temper a little bit."

"I know," Brennan nodded in agreement, "you do that."

Booth shook his head at her response. The fact that she shrugged it off so easily, the fact that he raised his voice at her, and just said 'you do that' scared him a little bit.

"That's not really something you should ignore because it's just 'what I do'," he looked at her with a slightly concerned expression, "I should be able to control my temper."

"I'm not saying it's okay that you shouted at me, I'm just not going to be angry about it because you lose your temper with everybody, not just me," Brennan shrugged again, her voice having a more serious tone when she saw his distressed expression, "don't fuss about it, Booth. Nobody's perfect. I don't _expect_ you to be perfect, the same way you don't expect it from me."

"Who says I don't expect it from you?" He joked.

Brennan simply rolled her eyes, smiling at his ability to go from being serious to playful in a matter of seconds.

"Bones," he said her name in a serene, happy sounding, voice as he took her hand to brush his lips over her knuckles, hearing a soft, breathy laugh fall from her lips, "all kidding aside, you know I love you the way you are."

"I know," Brennan took her hand back, a smile on her face as she wiped the wet mark left on her knuckles off on her shirt, "as do I. Well, you," she corrected herself, "I love you the way you are, not me. I mean, I do think I'm an exceptional being, but I was talking about yo-"

Booth silenced her rambling when he pulled her into his lap, hearing her squeak in surprise, followed by a small laugh as she struggled in his strong arms.

"Stop, you're getting your perspiration on me," she complained, attempting to wiggle out of his grip.

"Don't pretend you don't like swapping sweat with me, Doctor Brennan," he smiled mischievously at her.

Brennan rolled her eyes once again at his suggestive comment.

"Down boy, it's only been a few hours."

"Down boy?" He questioned her choice in words, surprised that she used the playful phrase.

"Angela taught me that one," she smiled proudly, wiping a lone drop of sweat that he missed before off of his forehead with her thumb, "isn't it clever?"

"Sure, Bones, whatever gets you through the day."

Booth wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands resting on her stomach as he placed his chin on her shoulder.

"You're not perfect," he told her honestly, kissing the side of her neck softly, "but you're perfect for me. Nobody wants some one who's flawless. That would get boring."

Brennan placed her hands over his, turning her head to brush her nose against his cheek.

"If perfection in a single person existed," she reminded him, leaning her back against his chest, "nobody's perfect, remember?"

"Right," Booth chuckled, his thumbs stroking over her hip bones, speaking again after a drawn out pause, "so we're okay, right?"

"Of course," Brennan said, as if that were obvious, "you know I have trouble staying mad at you."

Booth laughed lightly, pressing his lips to her shirt covered shoulder.

"So, truce?" He asked.

Brennan laughed as well, closing her eyes and propping her head against his.

"Truce," she agreed.

* * *

"I can't believe I didn't notice it," Cam shook her head in shame at herself.

A five minute conversation, and a ten minute 'make out session', as Sweets would call it, on her office couch later, Booth was leaving Brennan's office, holding the door open with one hand as they stood in the doorway, smoothing down their clothes, which became wrinkled and crumpled from their romp as they talked.

"How long do you think it'll be until she finds out we all know?" Angela asked.

"I give it a month," Hodgins concluded, "she still hasn't noticed that I know."

"But everyone here loves to gossip," Zack added in, from where he was examining the remains of one of the children, startling the rest of them, who had no idea he was even paying attention "she won't hear it from me though."

"I give it five minutes," Cam said, for her own reasons.

Brennan only offered Booth a soft touch on the arm, since she knew they were, more than likely, being watched, before he left, waving goodbye to the 'squint squad' on his way out.

"Right in front of my face," Cam seemed to be stuck on the same subject, "I never even considered it. I guess, after all the times they made it so obvious they wanted each other, but swore they didn't, I just learned to ignore it. But this, I should have noticed. It makes sense now. Why Brennan gets so defensive, why she comes in late with sex hair. I knew she was probably seeing _someone_, but I never though it'd be..."

"Eh, don't worry about it," Angela shrugged, "they had a good run. They did a pretty good job hiding it. It was really just that one mistake that screwed it up."

"They did a terrible job hiding it," Hodgins was confused by Angela's words, "I figured it out after the first few weeks."

"I really am oblivious," Cam felt even worse once she found out how long Hodgins knew for, "girls are supposed to notice these things."

"The FBI still didn't find where Robert's drug dealer is hiding yet so I'll be here if anybody needs me," Brennan told the team on the forensic platform, seeing how they all stiffened up and stopped talking once they heard her voice, "did I do something wrong?"

"No, nothing, nothing at all," Cam said, unable to look at Brennan the way she used to, at least for the time being.

"Then why are you all staring at me in silence?" She furrowed her eyebrow in confusion.

"Who's silent?" Cam asked, "I'm not silent."

"Okay," Brennan's voice was skeptical, as she took a long pause "I'm going to come look for cause of death, I just have to get my coat."

The team's eyes followed her when she walked back into her office, unable to shake the awkwardness of the people around her from her mind when she shut the door behind her.

Once she closed the door, she noticed, for the first time that morning, since, for the time she'd been in her office that day, she'd been distracted by Booth, a small square object resting on her desk. When she approached it, she noticed it was a CD case, with two pieces of masking tape on the cover, one reading "For: Doctor Brennan" and one reading "Doctor Saroyan". Curiously, she carried the case to her desk, opening it, along with the disc tray in her computer, and popping the disc it contained in before closing it. The content on the disc only took a few seconds to load before it played, and what it played, made her nearly melt in embarrassment and shame.

"_Seeley,_" her own voice was loud on her speaker, causing her to jerk her hand towards the volume and turn it down, "_Oh, God, Seeley_."

Brennan was frozen, her eyes locked on the screen, unsure of what she was feeling at the moment. She was upset that nobody told her about the security cameras, scared she was going to lose her partner, angry that this is how Cam chose to tell her, and embarrassed when she wondered how many people saw this.

"_Bones, baby, Temperance,_" Booth's husky voice mumbled incoherently, the sound of heavy breathing coming from her computer and filling the office, "_baby, mmm, God, baby_."

Brennan grew unintentionally annoyed when she noticed how many times he'd actually called her baby during their intercourse, since that was the only time he could ever get away with it.

"_I love you, I love you, Booth, I love you_" Brennan was surprised they hadn't gotten caught in the act, due to her volume, "_Booth, please. Please, Seeley, look at me, please, baby_."

Her jaw fell slightly agape. _She'd_ called _him_ baby? She had to wonder how often that happened, or if he even noticed, for that matter.

Brennan quickly closed the window when she heard her office door open, her heart pounding in her chest when she realized she, not only got caught having sex in the storage room, but got caught watching the video of it now too. She turned to see Cam, the look in her eyes immediatly turning apologetic.

"Enjoying your gift?" Cam's voice was playfully sarcastic.

"Doctor Saroyan, I'm," Brennan's words were swimming in her head, her entire body burning with an embarrassed blush, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. Booth and I agreed to keep it a secret, but now I realize I should have told you. You had the right to know, mainly because you used to sleep with Booth, and you probably still care for him. "

"That's not why I would have wanted you to tell me," Cam laughed at Brennan's logic, "I do still care for Booth, but not in that way anymore. I'm glad Seeley moved on. He deserves to be happy. But I'm your boss, Doctor Brennan, and Seeley's your partner. You can see why I should know if you two are sleeping together."

"No, I don't see how my sexual relationships are relevant to my work," Brennan told her, arching an eyebrow in confusion.

"You're sleeping with your _work_ partner," Cam was confused as to what was confusing her, "can you see why I would be worried about that interfering with your work?"

"You don't have anything to worry about when it comes to the quality of my work," Brennan assured her, "Booth and I agreed when we first initiated a relationship, partners first, lovers second. Professional at work, personal at home."

"I wouldn't exactly this," she gestured towards the empty CD case, "professional. This is the second time one of my employees got caught having sex in the storage room. Do you know how that makes me look?"

"I know, that was very unprofessional of me and I'm fairly ashamed," Brennan told her honestly, "it won't happen again, you have my word. That was a mistake and I know I was wrong. And I'm sorry for making you look bad."

Cam cracked a smile.

"It's fine," she assured her, "as long as it doesn't happen again. And, all kidding aside, I'm happy for both of you. You deserve each other."

"Is that a bad thing?" Brennan asked.

"No," Cam laughed, "it's a good thing. I'm glad you both stopped being so damn stubborn and just went with it. We all knew it was going to happen eventually, we just didn't know exactly when."

"That, isn't logical," Brennan looked hopelessly confused.

Cam rolled her eyes, a smile on her face as she went to leave the room, turning around again when she was only half way to the door.

"Oh, and Doctor Brennan?" She grabbed her attention back, "make sure you put that," she gestured towards the CD case again, "somewhere safe. We wouldn't want someone finding it."

"Oh, right," Brennan ejected the disc from her computer and put it back in the case, stuffing the small object into her bag as Cam left her office.

* * *

Brennan attempted to keep her moan quiet when Booth bit her bottom lip gently, his lips making their way quickly down her neck.

"Booth," Brennan mumbled, pushing gently on his forehead to push him away from her skin, "this isn't very professional."

"Bones," he chuckled huskily leaning away from her neck at her request, his fingers toying with the bottom of her shirt, "the blinds are down."

"Your office has glass walls," her fingers traveled aimlessly down his fabric covered back, "the blinds don't cover everything."

"Pretty much everything," he looked at her curiously, "what's the matter? Am I boring you? Are you tired of this?"

"No, of course not," Brennan assured him, with a small laugh, "it's just, we're at work. And at work, we should be two respectable professionals."

Booth took a long pause, fixing a piece of hair that fell into her face for her.

"You're right," he agreed, after thinking about it for a minute, leaning away from her body to unpin her from the wall, "professional. Professional isn't necking in my office like a couple of horny teenagers."

Brennan laughed lightly, stepping out into the open office, out of the little corner he had her backed into .

"Would necking in your office like a couple of horny adults be better for you?" She joked.

"Hey, Bones, that was funny," Booth nudged her playfully with his elbow, feeling a sense of pride when she made a joke, "you're joking."

"I've become quite amusing," she informed him, "I've been spending too much time with you and Angela."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he observed, not waiting for a response before he continued, "it's not. When you joke it makes you seem, warmer."

Brennan's face twisted up into a hurt expression.

"I don't mean to come off cold," she told him, knowing he was unaware of her sensitivity about that topic, "I really don't like the fact that people's impressions of me are that I'm cold hearted and distant," her shoulder relaxed a little when she felt Booth's hand rest on it comfortingly, "people like _you_. How do you make yourself appealing?"

"It's easy," he assured her, brushing his knuckles gently against the side of her neck, "just, smile, say hello, crack a joke or two, and don't correct them," he kissed her cheek softly, seeing a small smile come to her lips when he did, "but don't worry about it, Bones. People like you. People who take the time to get to know you are lucky enough to see who you really are."

"You're trying to flatter me," she laughed lightly, feeling another kiss pressed to her cheek, "you know as well as I do that people like you better than me."

"Robert likes you better than me," he reminded her.

"That's one person."

"Hey, take it or leave it, Bones."

Brennan rolled her eyes playfully, jumping when she heard the door to her partner's office open quickly, hearing Caroline's voice start to speak before she even saw the two of them.

"Have a minute, cherie? Because this is kind of really important."

"That's an oxymoron," Brennan told her.

"Oh, good, you're both here, two birds with one stone," Caroline's voice sounded sarcastically relieved.

"If this is about the trial, I'm a bit more focused on solving the murder of three children at the moment," Brennan told her, tensing up just a little bit when she remembered how rapidly the trial was approaching, "so if you could come back at a better time-"

"It's about the trial, but I don't need all that much time to tell you-"

"I'll have my testimony ready tomorrow, so just come back then," Brennan cut her off, after Caroline had cut her off the first time.

"I don't need-"

"Caroline, I'm busy, it'll have to wait," Brennan's tone was slightly more stern.

Caroline sounded irritated when she blurted out what she was trying to say before Brennan could cut her off again.

"Well your testimony isn't really necessary anymore, cherie," she said, seeing Brennan arch an eyebrow in confusion, "Miguel Villeda was murdered. And unfortunately for both of you, Special Agent Trigger-Happy and Doctor Traumatized are more than likely going to be at the top of the suspect list."


	70. All You Have is an Earing

**A/N: Happy Late-Thanksgiving everyone. =] I'm sorry, I really wanted to get this one to you yesterday as a holiday gift, but, admittedly, I wound up falling asleep on the couch while my family and I were watching football. And that was the end of me for the night. xD So here, it's a late gift, but a gift, nevertheless. **

Chapter Seventy:

"All You Have is an Earing"

Booth flicked through the snapshots of the gory crime scene in Villeda's living room, looking slightly disinterested as he passed one after the other, tucking them into the back of the pile after he looked at them for a few seconds.

"Admiring your handiwork, Agent Booth?" Special Agent Payton Perotta asked from the other side of the table in the interrogation room, trying her best to seem intimidating, despite how immensely attracted she was to her fellow FBI agent.

Booth chuckled bitterly, setting the pictures on the table once he was done.

"I didn't kill Villeda," he said, simply, looking straight into Perotta's eyes when he spoke, "but I'd like to give whoever did a pat on the back.

Perotta rolled her eyes, leaning forward on her elbows.

"Between you and me, I don't think you did it," she filled him in, "but, I think you know who did, and you're holding out on me."

"You think I hired a hit man or something?" Booth asked, seeing her look at him as if she were asking him to stop playing dumb, "listen, I didn't like the guy, scratch that, I_ hated_ the guy, but I didn't kill him. And I didn't hire anyone to kill him either."

"That's _not_what I mean," Perotta was growing increasingly more annoyed when he skated around her statement, acting like he didn't know what she was talking about. She reached into her bag and pulled out a small evidence bag, dropping it onto the table in front of him. "Does this mean anything to you?"

Booth picked up the bag, examining the small dolphin inside.

"Yeah, that's Bones' earing," he said.

"Then you would know how it ended up at the crime scene, right?"

"No, I wouldn't," Booth corrected her, "I haven't even seen her wear these in forever."

Perotta ignored what she thought was just him lying again, placing her hand on the bag he was holding to point to the tip of the earing, where it would go into Brennan's earlobe.

"See that?" She asked, pointing to the barely visible specks of dried up blood on the earing, not waiting for a response before she spoke again, "that's blood, indicating that this earing was ripped out of someone, I'm assuming your partner's, ear, probably when they were struggling for the gun she killed Villeda with."

"You think _Bones_killed Villeda?" Booth had to laugh at the accusation, "Bones wouldn't kill someone just for the hell of it."

"She hasn't been in her right mind set lately," Perotta pointed out, "maybe you don't know her as well as you think you do."

"I know her better than you do," Booth reminded her, "all you have is an earing. Don't forget I'm a cop too, and I know you can't arrest someone based on that," he gestured towards the small metal dolphin, "you're gonna need more than a piece of metal to get a conviction."

"How about I run some DNA tests on this little dolphin then?" Perotta asked, taking the evidence bag back out of his hand, "I can do that, and prove that this is your partner's earing, or you can just tell me what you know and maybe we'll cut a deal."

"I already told you what I know. I know that's Bones' earing, that's all. I don't keep tabs on her. I don't know where she is every second of every day. She's a grown woman you know."

"Is that your way of saying no alibi? Because, if that's the case, maybe I should just call your girlfriend in here right now and have her arrested and thrown in a holding cell for the night."

"Number one, Bones isn't my girlfriend, and number two, no, that's not my way of saying no alibi. Tell me what time Villeda was murdered and I'll tell you if Bones and I were together."

"We're not sure yet, Agent Booth, but I'll be sure to let you know once we find out, because, according to you, our entire investigation should just revolve around you and what you want," she paused when Booth flipped his phone open and read over a text, completely ignoring her at this point, "I'm sorry, am I boring you?" She asked, sarcastically.

"No, but I really don't have time for this right now," Booth said, smiling charmingly at Agent Perotta before sliding his phone back into his pocket, "now if you'll excuse me, I have a case to work on. You see, I'm actually trying to catch someone who murdered three innocent children, not someone who murdered some gang leader who kidnaps people and ties them up in a basement."

"Doesn't Villeda deserve justice too?" Perotta asked, looking at him curiously.

"No, he doesn't," Booth told her honestly, "whoever killed him was doing the world a favor."

"What did he ever do to you that was so horrible?" Perotta was confused as to why he had such a strong hatred for Villeda.

"It's not what he did to me," Booth told her, turning from where he was half facing the door and half facing her to look at her seriously, "it's what he did to my partner."

"I've seen worse done to people than what Villeda did to your partner," Perotta told him, quickly clarifying when she saw his jaw tighten in anger, "not saying what he did was right, I'm just saying it could have been much worse."

"There was more to it then what you, or anyone else, could see on the outside," he told her, placing his hand on the doorknob, "so I'm not having this discussion with you."

* * *

The car was silent, pulled onto the side of the road, the only sounds audible being a few people talking, walking down the dark road.

"Booth-"

"Sh," Booth hushed her sharply, pressing his hand over her mouth, "not so loud. Do you want someone to hear us?"

Brennan pushed his hand off her mouth, grumbling something inaudible as she rolled her eyes. She hated stakeouts, absolutely hated them. Booth always seemed to get extra snippy when they were on a stakeout, especially when they had to sit there for a while, which was the case that day. They'd been there for almost two hours and there was no sign of the drug dealer they were looking for.

"I was just going to ask why you seem like you're in a bad mood," she asked, her voice in a low whisper, so she didn't get scolded again.

"It's nothing, Bones, I'm not even in a bad mood," Booth mumbled, brushing it off, since he really didn't want to explain to her how Perotta thought she was a murderer.

"You're not in a _good_ mood," she pointed out.

"Well I'm obviously not going to be in a good mood when I've had a seatbelt digging into my back for two hours," he grunted, shifting, in an attempt to get more comfortable.

Brennan reached over and tugged on the seatbelt to help him move it from where it had been digging into the same spot for an extended period of time, helping him tuck it back behind him, so it was still digging into his skin, but not the same spot anymore, so it wasn't quite as painful.

"Maybe we should have taken my car," she whispered, "the seatbelts are positioned differently in my car, and the seats recline further than yours, so there probably wouldn't be as much of a strain on your back."

"There's nothing wrong with my back, Bones, it's perfectly normal for me to be in pain when I've been sitting in a car for hours unable to move."

"Okay, fine, there's nothing wrong with your back," Brennan held her hands up in defeat, not wanting to have the bad back conversation for, what felt like, the tenth time.

"Thank you," Booth mumbled, leaning up slightly to peek out the window, huffing when he saw there was still no sign of Donovan Bradshaw, the drug dealer.

Booth leaned back against the seat once more, closing his eyes in frustration at the stake-out process. He arched his back in an attempt to stretch it out as much as he could in their cramped conditions, hearing a small noise of displeasure from Brennan when his elbow dug into the skin of her arm.

"Sorry," he apologized, still ever the gentleman, even when he was sore and annoyed, "it's not very roomy in here."

"No, it's not," Brennan agreed, craning her neck to peek out the window, knowing they were both growing impatient, "what if someone was just jerking us around? What if he doesn't show up here?"

"Then we leave," Booth said, as if that were obvious, turning his head to look at her, "what else would we do?"

"Well how much longer do we have to wait until we can leave?" She asked.

Booth shrugged.

"A while," he told her, honestly, "six, eight hours, maybe. I never had to wait longer than four before the guy showed up."

"Four hours?" Brennan rolled her eyes, "that means we only have two hours to break your record."

Booth laughed quietly.

"Only two hours? That's a while, Bones."

"Not if we're distracted," Brennan turned her head to look at him again, her voice having a slight rasp to it when she spoke quietly.

"And how would we do that?" Booth cocked his eyebrow, a cocky half smile on his face.

Brennan half smiled as well, suggestively.

"Well we could turn on the radio," she suggested, "or we can converse. You're the one who said you're supposed to converse on a stakeout."

Booth's half smile turned into a full smile when she finished speaking.

"What would you like to 'converse' about?" He asked.

"We could talk about how much I like this suit," she suggested, smoothing her hand over the fabric of the grey jacket, "or we could talk about how much better I'd like it if it were off."

"Bones," Booth complained, "relax."

"I'm calm," she shrugged, playing innocent, "you're the one getting worked up."

"Because you're doing that thing again," he told her, "that temptress-sex kitten thing."

"I am not," Brennan complained.

There was a long pause between them when Booth didn't respond, knowing good and well what she was trying to do. Who did she think she was fooling? The only reason she was teasing him like that was because she wanted him to tell her what Perotta said, and she figured she could coax it out of him with suggestive flirting. Brennan, still thinking he was oblivious to what she was doing, rested her chin on his shoulder so she could whisper in his ear.

"There's something I love about taking your suits off you," she put on her best bedroom voice when she whispered to him, "I'm going to undress you nice and slow tonight."

Booth turned his head to look at her, smiling charmingly.

"I know what you're doing, Bones," he filled her in.

"That temptress-sex kitten thing?" She asked, playfully.

"No, that 'I'm gonna get Booth to tell me what he and Perotta talked about before' thing."

_Damn, he's good. _

"I have no such thing," she lied.

"Listen, I know you, Bones. You're not as slick as you think."

Brennan's flirtatious looking expression fell flat as she took her chin off his shoulder to lean back in her seat again, placing her hands in her lap. There was a short pause between them before Brennan threw her plan out the window, and decided begging was her last resort.

"I don't understand why you won't just tell me," she complained, turning her head to look at her partner seriously again, "remember we had this whole conversation about being honest with each other, and I told you I want you to tell me things even if you think they'll hurt me?"

"Bones, even though that may sound fine and easy in your little squinty head, I'm not going to be the reason you're upset. There's some things that are just better left unsaid, and this is one of them. It's nothing you have to worry about, because I'll fix it."

"So it _is_ about me," Brennan narrowed her eyes at him, "I knew it."

"It's not important," he told her, knowing good and well that, that was a lie.

"I think I should be the judge of that, consider it's about me."

"Bones, just, drop it, okay?"

"I'm not going to drop it. I'll just continue to ask until you eventually grow annoyed and blurt it out in a fit of anger."

"That's never going to happen, so I hope you're a fan of disappointment, baby."

Brennan crossed her arms over her chest silently.

"The 'baby' thing kind of just, slipped out," he said, unsure as to whether she was annoyed that he wouldn't tell her what was going on, or annoyed that he called her baby.

"I don't care about that at the moment," Brennan murmured.

Booth rolled his eyes slightly as they waited in silence, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Now, not only was there a metal seatbelt digging into his back, but Brennan wasn't talking to him. This stakeout didn't seem like it could really get all that much worse at the moment. He had to break this awkward silence, due to the simple fact that he just couldn't take the hostile feel of the SUV at the moment. Reaching over the arm rest, he placed his hand on her arm, seeing her head turn to look at him curiously when she felt his skin against hers.

"If I have sex with you in the back of this SUV, will you stop being mad at me?" He asked, a small, playful smile on his face, indicating that he was only kidding.

Brennan laughed lightly and rolled her eyes at his way of breaking the awkwardness.

"That won't be necessary," she assured him, a smile on her face as well.

"Good," Booth chuckled, "because I'm not really sure how I'd be able to explain us missing Bradshaw come by because we were too busy getting it on to Cullen."

"Yes, I don't think that would go over well," she agreed, laughing lightly, "you'd lose your job, and I'd have to live the rest of my life with that on my shoulders."

"Oh, yes, I'd lose my job, but poor you for having to live with the fact that it was your fault," he joked.

"Booth, if you got fired because of me, I don't know how I'd be able to make that up to you," she said, honestly, "you love what you do."

"I do love what I do," he confirmed, "but not getting shot at every other day doesn't seem too bad either."

"You are so melodramatic," she laughed.

Just as Booth was about to respond with a snippy comeback, the sound of his phone ringing cut him off, and he quickly went to pick it up before it drew attention to their car.

"Booth," he answered, his voice clearly showing his irritation.

Brennan barely listened when he spoke, keeping her focus on the window to make sure they weren't missing Bradshaw. She only started to listen to her partner's conversation when she heard the tone of his voice grow sharper, his volume increasing a little each time he spoke, hearing a few curses under his breath while the muffled voice came through the receiver. She jumped when he snapped his phone shut, shoving it into his jacket pocket.

"Dammit," he growled, feeling around for the handle that reclined the seats to pull his back up to where it was supposed to be, slamming a fist against the steering wheel once he was back in a seated position, "God dammit!"

"Booth," Brennan's voice was weary, as she pulled her seat up as well, "calm down."

Ever since the Villeda incident, it made Brennan nervous when he'd lose his temper like that. When he'd just snap at her a little, it wasn't a big deal, but when he really lost it, as much as she hated to admit it, it scared her. She didn't want to be afraid of him, ever, but when he'd get that mad, it brought back the painful memories.

"I really hate being jerked around," he wasn't really speaking to her, more just thinking aloud, "I hate when people screw with me."

"I know," Brennan wanted to place a comforting hand on his arm, but couldn't bring herself to trust him at the moment.

Snapping out of his few seconds of rage, Booth looked over at his partner.

"I'm scaring you," he told her, rather than asked.

"Yes," Brennan admitted, quietly, "you're scaring me."

She wasn't going to bring up Villeda again, since she knew how hard he took it last time she compared his actions to Villeda's.

"It's, not your fault," he assured her, "it's just, apparently Bradshaw's not coming. You were right. Someone was just trying to screw with us. Obviously someone who doesn't want us finding this guy."

"Well who called and told you where he was?" She asked, finding herself getting annoyed as well by this point.

"I don't know," Booth admitted, "he said he wanted to remain anonymous, so he didn't get into any kind of trouble," he paused, rubbing the back of his neck as he took a deep breath, "but, you know what, I'm gonna find out who this was, and I'm gonna make his life a living hell until he tells me everything I want to know. Because I really don't have the time or patients to be jerked around while I'm trying to catch a murderer."

"I don't blame you for being angry," Brennan told him, as he started the car back up, "that was a huge waste of time. We could have been doing something more productive with those two hours. Maybe I could have found cause of death, or you could have questioned someone."

"Well, it doesn't matter now," Booth shrugged, noticeably more calm by this point, "but whoever this was really picked a bad time to screw with me."

"Because you're a murder suspect?" Brennan asked, "Is that why you're so tightly wound tonight?"

"If I remember correctly, you're a murder suspect too," he reminded her.

"I've been a murder suspect before, and I know I didn't do anything, so what would be the point in getting stressed out about it?" She pointed out, "They won't have any evidence to convict me, because I didn't commit the murder, so being worried about it wouldn't do me any good," she paused, looking at Booth questioningly as he started to drive, "did _you_ do anything you'd have to be worried about?"

Booth glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

"You're really asking me if I killed Villeda?" He asked, in disbelief.

"No! I mean, I know how much you hate him. And you're a little on edge lately, so maybe you're not thinking as clearly as you should," she swallowed the nervous lump in her throat when she realized how that sounded, "I don't think you did, but, you've killed people before, Booth."

"Because I had to, Temperance, never in cold blood," she shuddered when he used her first name, indicating his seriousness.

"It wouldn't be in cold blood. He hurt someone you care about."

"I'm not a murderer, Bones," he said, his voice flat.

Brennan suddenly felt guilty for even letting the thought cross her mind. Of course he didn't kill anyone. This was Booth, not some lunatic.

"I know," she admitted, keeping her gaze focused on the streetlights as they drove past them, "I know you're not."

"Then why'd you even ask?" He asked her.

"I, don't know," Brennan shrugged, meekly, "I'm just, trying to make sense of this, that's all. I don't want to believe someone killed him for me, because of what he did to me, but it's very likely that's the case."

"Maybe it had nothing to do with you," Booth tried to comfort her, "maybe it was just something to do with Mara Muerte."

"Maybe," Brennan said, quietly, trying her best to convince herself that he was right, even as the back of her mind disagreed.


	71. Let's Get You Home

**A/N: I really am sorry about how long that took everyone. Every time I went to write this week, I just got distracted. But hopefully this chapter makes up for it. =]**

**And as disappointed as I've been with this season so far, I'm really looking forward to next week's episode, even though I'll probably cry. xDD**

Chapter Seventy-One:

"Let's Get You Home"

Brennan scrunched up her nose and squirmed slightly in her sleep when she felt something tickle her ear, only realizing it was her partner's breath when she felt his lips explore the outer shell of her ear.

"Booth," she complained, opening one eye to look at the clock sleepily, groaning when she saw it was two in the morning, "I'm sleeping."

"I want you," he whispered huskily in her ear, feeling her shiver under his touch.

"No," she mumbled, burying her face into her pillow, "you can have me in the morning."

She made a small sound when he took her earlobe gently between his teeth.

"Stop it, Booth," she mumbled, reaching behind her to swat at the space behind her, hoping to find his face to push it away, "it's late, I'm tired, and I'm not in the mood."

"Come on, Bones," he whispered, when he let go of her earlobe, "you're always in the mood. How come when I am you change your mind?"

"Because I don't wake you up at two in the morning," she whined, feeling him grab her shoulders gently and turn her carefully onto her back, causing her to laugh lightly, closing the eye she had open to look at the time, "what are you doing?"

"Having my way with you," he said, as if that were obvious, kissing from her cheek to the side of her throat.

"You're silly," Brennan laughed sleepily, reaching up to touch the side of his face as she yawned, drifting in and out of consciousness.

Booth stopped his actions and let out a long sigh before he leaned away from his half asleep partner, feeling slightly disappointed.

"You stopped," Brennan pointed out in a mumbling, sleep-ridden voice.

"Yeah, I figured having you fall asleep on me would only just hurt my self esteem," he shrugged, leaning his back against the headboard, "I'm not really sure where all that came from."

"Neither am I, but I'm not complaining," she laughed weakly, opening her eyes to look at her partner sleepily, "besides, you actually look kind of cute with bed head," she sat up next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder as she reached up to ruffle his hair playfully.

"Thanks, Bones," he laughed lightly, kissing the top of her head, "so do you."

Brennan smiled as she ran her fingers across his t-shirt covered chest, her eyes closed.

"Are you having difficulty sleeping?" She asked.

"A little," he admitted, "but it's really not a big deal. I'm just, thinking again."

"Normally I'm the one thinking and you're the one sleeping," she joked.

"Changing up roles every once in a while is not a bad thing," Booth shrugged, smiling down at her, even though she couldn't see him behind her eyelids.

Brennan ran her fingers absent mindedly up and down his arm, yawning after a couple seconds of silence.

"Did you want to talk about it?" She asked.

"No, I mean, there's nothing to talk about," he assured her, taking her hand to stop her motions and lace their fingers together, "I'm, not even sure what I'm thinking about. I'm just, thinking, you know?"

"No, I don't," Brennan informed him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze after their fingers were intertwined, "but I'm not going to tell you you're incorrect."

"Good, because you know I really hate when you correct me," he smiled.

Brennan pulled his hand up to her lips, placing tiny kisses across his knuckles. She pressed her cheek to the back of his hand when he made a small noise in response, willing to just lay in silence, sharing body heat, until he fell asleep.

"Are you asleep yet?" She asked, letting go of his hand to press her palm to his cheek.

"I'm trying to be," he responded, making another small noise when she moved her hand off of his face to replace it with her own cheek, draping her arm over his stomach, "you're warm."

"I'm roughly the same temperature as you are," she told him, "98.6 degrees, give or take."

"Whatever, Bones," he laughed lightly, his smile fading when his mind returned to where it had been all night. He knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep until he got it off his chest, so he decided to just come out and ask her. "Bones? If you did something wrong, would you tell me?"

"That depends on what you mean by wrong," Brennan shrugged, "like, morally wrong or lawfully wrong?"

"Lawfully," he shrugged back at her, opening both eyes to look at her sleepily now, his fingers moving to trace her shoulders, "or morally and lawfully."

Brennan barely even took a second to think about it before she responded.

"No, I probably wouldn't tell you," she said, rubbing her cheek gently against his.

"Why not?" Booth asked, a little surprised by her answer, knowing it was only a mater of time before she started to wonder why he was asking her so many questions.

"Because you're an FBI agent," she said, as if that were obvious.

"You think I'd get you in trouble?" He asked.

"No," Brennan assured him, "but I know how seriously you take your job, and I know that you wouldn't want to get me in any sort of trouble. So I wouldn't want to make you choose between protecting me and doing your job, because, honestly, I know what you'd choose. You'd choose me over your job, and I wouldn't want to make you do that."

"That's sweet of you, Bones," he told her, a small smile on his face, "but if it came down to it, I'd have your back, one hundred percent. I wouldn't even care about work at that point."

Brennan's expression looked distressed as she looked up at her partner, moving her head so their cheeks were no longer pressed together. Booth looked back at her curiously, seeing how worried she looked all of the sudden.

"What?" He asked.

"Partners first," she said, the tone of her voice indicating her concern, "work first. We agreed when we first initiated a relationship that work would always come first. You can't choose me over your job, Booth. That wasn't the agreement."

"I kind of thought we were past the whole 'partners first, friends second, lovers third' agreement," he admitted, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at her serious, "So if, by some chance, you were forced to choose between having this and not working together anymore, or going back to the way things were, you'd choose..."

"There's no use in worrying about things that didn't happen yet," she told him, very obviously avoiding the question, her eyes closed as he laid back flat next to her.

"I know, but," he paused, looking for a way to word it so that she would understand why he was asking, "it's just something I really need to know, Bones."

Booth glanced over at her once again when he didn't get a response.

"Bones, don't pretend to be sleeping. You're not as good of an actress as you think."

Still no response from the anthropologist.

"You're not fooling anyone. Just answer the question."

The room remained silent.

"I'm giving you five seconds to give up the sleeping act, and if you don't, I'm moving to the couch."

Booth paused, starting to count in his head before he felt Brennan roll over onto her side and curl into his chest sleepily. He hadn't noticed it before, but apparently she was, in fact, sleeping, and not just avoiding the conversation about their relationship. Feeling bad for threatening her, Booth pressed a kiss to the sleeping scientist's forehead, holding her close.

"Night, Bones," he whispered, closing his eyes as well, resuming his attempts to sleep as he listened to her snore softly and felt her warm breath against his shirt.

* * *

Brennan went into work the next morning in rare form, due to the broken sleep she had gotten the night before. When she first entered the lab, she tried her best to make her way to her office without getting stopped, only to hear Zack's voice before she even made it to her door.

"Doctor Brennan," he called to her quickly, before she could get to the privacy of her office, "he died from a gunshot. He was shot six times in his chest, but the first one was the fatal shot. The rest were just overkill. Whoever the assassin was hit him straight in the heart with his or her first shot. They must have had impeccable aim. Probably trained."

"No, Zack, the children weren't shot at all, let alone six times," Brennan shook her head, taking a sip of her coffee, "I already confirmed that they died from being knocked unconscious with a blunt object, then thrown in the lake where they drown."

"I, wasn't talking about the children, Doctor Brennan," Zack wore a confused expression when he spoke to her, "I was talking about Miguel Villeda."

Brennan tensed up when she heard the name, suddenly feeling a surge of anger rush through her body at the mention of him. They had _her_ team trying to catch Villeda's murderer. This was _her_ team, and they were trying to help _Villeda_. That didn't seem right to her. After everything he did to her, she wasn't going to help him.

"No, you're supposed to be working on the murder of the Wilson children, not anything else, Zack," she snapped, taking out the frustration she was feeling on her former intern, "and Villeda's murder is none of my business. I'm still a suspect, so I can't work on it, not that I want to anyway. So just, leave the Villeda murder be and get back to working on the children."

"I'm, sorry Doctor Brennan," Zack seemed slightly taken back by her sudden change in mood, "it's just, Cam told me-"

"I don't care what Cam told you," she cut him off, "if she says anything to you, you tell her to come speak to me about it," she paused to pull her hair up into a ponytail, "the murder of these three small children, that's what takes priority. They have a family that loves and misses them. No one will miss Villeda."

"You're the one that taught me not to make prejudicial assumptions about a victim based on the life they lead," he reminded her, "you say look at the facts and nothing else."

Brennan bit down on her tongue, knowing that she was completely going against her own beliefs at the moment. But this frustrated her. She did always go by the standard of looking at the evidence and not the victim's personal life, but she also was never in a scenario like this. This was personal, and she didn't have the ability to be objective about it.

"You're right, Zack," she admitted, not wanting her emotions to get in the way of Zack's work as well as her own, "but, I don't want you working on the Villeda case right now. I want you working on the Wilson children."

"I'll tell you if I find anything," he told her.

Brennan simply nodded, continuing to walk to her office, coffee in hand. When she reached the little room and went inside, she sat on her couch, putting her head in her hands as she let out a long, frustrated sigh, feeling tears begin to sting her eyes. Not sure why she was crying, she took her phone out of the pocket of her dress pants and pressed Booth's number on speed dial. She knew he would have his phone off, since he was in a meeting, but that was just what she wanted. At the moment, she didn't want to talk to him. She just wanted to hear his voice.

_You've reached Special Agent Seeley Booth. Leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. _

Brennan quickly clicked her phone shut before the message could begin recording, only to open it again and press the same speed dial number.

_You've reached Special Agent Seeley Booth. Leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as possible._

She felt a tear trickle down her cheek, quickly wiping it away with her sleeve as she repeated the process of hanging up and dialing again, unsure of how many times she'd actually wound up calling, just to hear his recorded voice repeating the same words back to her each time.

* * *

The punching bag rattled on it's chains when Brennan's fist connected with the red material, the only other sound in the room being the grunts that left her lips when she'd hit the piece of equipment with full force. She stopped after a few minutes of pounding on the punching bag only to take a sip of her water, resuming the work out soon after she was re-hydrated.

She was so absorbed in her workout, that she didn't even notice the little door open and click shut behind her, until she felt someone playfully push on the bag, causing it to sway to the side, taking Brennan by surprise. She looked up with a small gasp to see her partner standing next to her in a grey t-shirt and jeans.

"Hi," he greeted her, smiling charmingly as she relaxed her shoulders and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

"Hi," she greeted back, her breathing labored as she flicked a piece of damp, auburn, hair out of her face.

Booth punched absent mindedly at the red bag with his right hand, only hard enough to make it sway slightly.

"I had a feeling you'd be here," he told her, waiting for it to come to a stand still before he leaned his elbow against it, "I know you like to use that key to your advantage."

"Maybe if you become a best selling author people will give _you_ the key to their gym," she shrugged, "according to the owner, I'm welcome here whenever I want."

"The perks of being rich and famous," he joked, looking at her with a smile as she rolled her eyes playfully, "you called me like, a hundred times today. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything's fine" Brennan assured him, unwrapping the protective tape from her hands before she picked up her water bottle, "I just, had a little misunderstanding with Zack, and it was upsetting me, so I wanted to talk to you," she lied, since she thought it may sound strange if she said she just wanted to hear his voice, "I forgot you were in a meeting with Cullen."

"Oh," Booth said, not necessarily buying it, but not wanting to press the issue, "alright," he paused when she leaned against the bag with him, "still want to talk?"

She shrugged.

"I don't remember what I wanted to talk to you about. It was petty."

"If it was so petty then why did you call?" He asked, arching an eyebrow curiously.

"It wasn't a big deal, Booth," her voice indicated her discomfort, "please just let it go."

"Bones, you know if Zack did something that made you upset, you can tell me. I'll shoot him right between his squinty little eyes."

"That won't be necessary. It wasn't anything Zack did on purpose, he was just," she paused, making sure she chose her words carefully, "he was just looking at some remains, and something he said just upset me a little. But it wasn't a big deal."

"What'd he say?" Booth asked.

"Booth..."

"Come on, Bones. I'm just trying to help."

"I don't need help," she assured him, taking his hands to make sure he knew she was being honest, looking up into his eyes, "I swear to you, I don't need help. I can handle myself."

Brennan could see the way he looked at her, able to see the doubt in his eyes.

"Do you think I've become incapable of taking care of myself?" She asked.

"Of course I don't," Booth laughed lightly at her assumption, letting go of her hands to hold her face gently between his hands, "I just, think you need someone, okay? And I want to make sure you know I'm here, and that you can talk to me."

"I know," she promised, shivering when his cool hands stroked carefully down the sides of her neck, "I'm just trying to be self sufficient," she let him slide his hands to the back of her neck and tug her closer to his face, "I came here to let out some of my frustration with myself. I was frustrated because I didn't want to call you, I didn't want to be that weak. But I gave in."

"Don't ever call yourself weak," he said sternly, pressing their foreheads gently together, "ever. You're a strong, beautiful, intelligent woman."

Brennan smiled lightly.

"Yeah?" She asked.

"Yeah," Booth confirmed, a small smile on his face as well as he kissed the bridge of her nose gently, "and don't ever be afraid to call me, because that's just insulting," he joked.

"Well then I vehemently apologize for insulting you," she laughed.

She leaned forward before he could come up with a sarcastic response and kissed him gently, feeling his hands move back to her face when their lips connected. They kept the kiss gentle, only embracing the feel of the other's lips caressing theirs. After what could have been a few seconds or a few minutes of the soft embrace, Booth broke the silence that consumed them.

"Move in with me," he mumbled against her lips.

Brennan simply nodded and leaned in closer to make sure he wasn't trying to cut off their tender kiss. Despite her actions, Booth carefully disconnected their lips, earning a disappointed sound of protest from his partner.

"Did you hear me?" He asked, keeping her face between his hands as he looked into her eyes.

Brennan nodded again but didn't make any attempt to repeat her response.

"Move in with me," he repeated, running his thumb gently over her cheek bone.

"Okay," Brennan responded casually, as if it was no big deal.

Booth let go of her face, surprised by her response.

"Okay?" He asked, having to wonder if he misheard her.

"I would like to move in with you," she shrugged, "I know I protested the first two times you asked, but I've been putting a lot of thought into it lately, and I came to the conclusion that the next time you suggested it, I would accept."

Booth couldn't help the smile that was taking over his lips.

"So, you're gonna move in?" He asked, "Tonight?"

"Maybe not tonight," she said, "but as soon as possible," she paused when she saw the immensely excited expression on his face, "there's one condition though."

"Why am I not surprised?" Booth groaned in disappointment.

"It's nothing bad," she assured him, placing her hand on his arm in reassurance, "I just would like it if you let me keep the lease on my place. I'll move all my things in, and I'll live with you, so to speak, but I want to legally own my place, just incase."

"Fine, it's done," he agreed to her request without hesitation, taking her face back between his hands to peck her lips excitedly, "lets go get your stuff. Tonight. Right now."

"Booth, we'll do it tomorrow," she laughed lightly, "I'm tired."

"Fine," he smiled, pecking her lips again just for the sake of doing it, "but tomorrow, right after work, we're moving you in."

"Okay," she smiled back, wrapping her arms gently around his neck, "after work I'll officially be your roommate."

"I'm looking forward to it," he let go of her again and took a step back to hold his hand out for her, "come on, roomie. Let's get you home."


	72. Therapy With Sweets: Trust

**A/N: Hello everyone. =] Yes, finally another therapy chapter. I've been wanting to write another therapy chapter for a while, but I kept forgetting. Yes, I really think there's something wrong with me sometimes. xD Anyway, enjoy. =]**

Therapy With Sweets: Trust

"I told Bones I left my wallet in her car. She's looking for it, so I think we have time," Booth kept his voice down when he talked to the psychologist, glancing around to make sure Brennan wasn't about to come through the door.

"Booth, what's so horrible that you can't say it in front of Doctor Brennan?" Sweets asked, his facial expression indicating concern.

"It's not horrible," Booth assured him, glancing around one last time before he leaned closer to Sweets and spoke quietly, "it's just, Bones agreed to move in with me, but I don't think she really wants to."

"You ask her, and then get upset when she agrees?" Sweets wasn't following his logic, "if you didn't want her to move in you shouldn't have asked."

"I _do_ want her to move in," he rolled his eyes, "I don't think _she_ wants to. I kind of just threw the idea out there last night, expecting her to say no, and, to my surprise, she goes 'Okay', like it's nothing," he paused, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, "and I'd believe her, except she said she'd move in only if I let her keep the lease on her place. And you know what I said? I said 'sure'."

"And this is, bad?" Sweets asked, hopelessly confused by this point.

"That's basically the living arrangement we have now," Booth explained, "the only difference is that she's going to have all of her clothes at my place instead of just the vast majority of them. It's like, she wants to share a house with me, but not live with me."

"I don't understand, at all, and I have multiple doctorates."

"She's willing to bring her clothes over, and sleep in my bed, but she's not willing to make it official by moving out and legally moving in with me. According to the government, she's still paying the bills for that apartment, she still lives there."

"Does it matter what she does legally?" Sweets asked, "I thought you just wanted her to live with you?"

"I do, but I," he paused, feeling uncomfortable saying the words, "I don't like her lack of commitment. It's like she's half committing. If you're gonna move in, go the whole nine yards."

"If you didn't like her condition, then why did you agree?" Sweets asked.

"There's two main reasons," he explained, "one, I was in a little bit of shock that she even agreed in the first place to be thinking clearly. And two, she's a beautiful woman, and I'm a guy, and when I make her happy, she makes me happy, if you know what I mean."

"You mean, sexually."

"Not the best choice of words," he paused when he saw the look Sweets was giving him, "and don't even give me that look. We all do it. You know you've said things just to make your girlfriend happy so she'd show you how much she 'appreciates' it."

"Did she?" Sweets asked, having to wonder if his thought process was effective, since he'd, honestly, never tried that.

"Yes, she did," Booth told him, "the sex was incredible too," he paused when he realized he was spitting out words without thinking, "but, you know, I'm not going to discuss my sex life with you. That's not what this is about. This is about me and Bones' living situation."

"I don't really think there's much of a situation. You live together. You _have_ lived together for a while, just without calling it living together."

"That's not-"

Booth cut himself off when the door to Sweets' office opened and Brennan stepped inside, pulling it back shut behind her. She immediatly took notice to the way the two of them looked at her like children that got caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"Hello," she said warily, the door clicking slowly shut behind her, "why do I feel like I'm entering some sort of intervention?"

"You're not," Booth said, almost too quickly, gesturing, with his hand, for her to join him, "come. Sit. Speak your mind to the good doctor. Thera-pize, if you will."

"I'm not sure _thera-pize _is a word existing in the English language," she pointed out, making her way over to the couch and sitting next to her partner when he instructed her to, "and your wallet wasn't in my car. You must be mistaken."

"Maybe," he shrugged, flashing a smile at her while mentally praying that she wouldn't figure out that he was trying to stall her with the wild goose chase he sent her on for his wallet, which was, in fact, in his left pocket, "you know me. I'm a scatterbrain."

"You have a tendency to be," she agreed, "but the word 'scatterbrain' is a little extreme. You just seem to misplace things often," she paused, glancing over at Sweets for the first time since she sat down, "hello, Doctor Sweets. You're awfully quiet today."

"You're awfully talkative today," he observed, exchanging glances between the two partners, "my guess is that everything's going okay? You two seem, happy."

"I wouldn't exactly say 'okay'. Booth and I are on the suspect list for Villeda's murder."

Sweets nearly choked on the air he was breathing in when Brennan told him so nonchalantly, seeing Booth place his head in his hands in frustration. He was absolutely appalled that she was taking something like being a murder suspect so lightly. But then again, if she knew she didn't do anything, it wouldn't have been something she'd fuss about.

"You two are murder suspects?" He asked, receiving a nod from both of them, "I'd think moving in together would be the last thing you'd be worried about right now."

Brennan's gaze immediatly turned to her partner.

"You told him without me?" Brennan asked.

"Well you know, Bones, I was just so excited that I couldn't wait," he used his charm smile on her, hoping that would distract her from the obvious lie.

Brennan narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'm not a fool, Booth."

_Damn her for being so smart_, he mentally scoffed.

"Okay, to be completely honest, I was kind of talking to Sweets about how I'm kind of thinking that you want to live with me, but not move in with me, if you know what I mean," he studied the confused expression on her face before he continued, "I was going to take it up with you, but I didn't want to start an argument last night. I mean, you were in such a good mood and all, I didn't want to spoil it."

Brennan looked at him curiously.

"So basically you think I'm lying about wanting to move in with you, and you wouldn't tell me last night because you wanted to have sex?"

"Who said anything about sex?" He asked, defensively, "Now you're just jumping to conclusions, Bones, and that's out of character for you."

"You're such a man," she complained, rolling her eyes at the situation, "men. All they need is sex and beer to be perfectly content."

"That's a stereotype," he accused, "sometimes we need scotch."

"Sex and alcohol then, I apologize."

"That's better, but it's still not entirely true," he stopped messing around with her when he saw how frustrated she actually looked, "Bones, I was really gonna tell you, but I wasn't sure how. I wasn't just gonna say 'Oh hey, Bones. You know how I told you I trusted you? Well, guess what? I changed my mind'."

Sweets was still too much in shock from the whole murder suspect thing they just sprung on him to even pay attention to their little argument over living together. He was still in disbelief that living together was something they were even _discussing_ while they were being accused of killing another human being.

"Can we get back on the Villeda murder subject?" He asked, after letting them bicker for a few minutes, "I'm kind of thinking that's a little more important right now than your living situation."

Brennan rolled her eyes at what a big deal Sweets was making out of the murder subject.

"It's nothing to fuss over, Doctor Sweets," she shrugged, "we're just suspects. Neither of us are going on trial or anything. They don't even have any evidence to link either of us to the crime, so it's more them just not counting us out yet than actually suspecting us."

"And neither of you are at all concerned about this?" He asked.

"I was starting to suspect Booth," she said, as if that were completely normal, "but after I thought it through logically, I realized it doesn't add up. Booth doesn't murder people, he catches murderers. And in addition to that, we're together for the better part of the day. There probably wasn't a time frame long enough for him to commit murder."

Booth looked at her with a half shocked expression.

"You thought it was me?" He asked in disbelief.

"Only for a day," Brennan shrugged, "it makes sense, when you think about it, Booth. You have motive and you're sniper trained, which fits the evidence. Zack said whoever shot Villeda must have had some sort of training. After he said that, I felt a little uneasy. I thought maybe you killed Villeda because of what he did to me."

"Bones, you know I love you, and I'd do anything to protect you, but I wouldn't brutally murder Villeda. How insane do you think I am?"

"I didn't think you were crazy, I thought you just, snapped, you know?"

"No, I don't."

"Villeda was shot six times, but the first shot was the one that killed him. The last five were less precise and completely unnecessary," she glanced at Sweets when she asked for his opinion, "psychologists would call that a crime of passion, correct?"

"Many people would call that a crime of passion," Sweets nodded in agreement, "that's a perfect example of someone just going blind with anger."

Booth exchanged glances between the two of them.

"Why do I all of the sudden feel like I'm being accused of something?" He asked.

Brennan looked to Sweets, as if they were sharing some sort of secret, then back to her partner.

"No, no one's accusing you," she promised, "just simply, having a logical discussion."

There was another awkward pause between the three.

"You think I killed Villeda," Booth accused, "you both do. Just because your 'evidence' fits, doesn't mean I'm a murderer. Because, I've got news for you, sometimes evidence can be misleading."

"Booth, it's statistically improbable that the evidence can all point to someone, but it's somehow wrong," Brennan told him, "and that doesn't mean I think it was you."

"Except you _do_ think it was me," he rolled his eyes, leaning back against the back of Sweets' couch as he crossed his arms over his chest, "I can't believe you think I'm that crazy."

"Don't be a baby," Brennan nudged his arm, half in irritation and half out of affection, "you know I have to try my best to be objective, and being objective means considering all the possibilities. I'd be a fool if I just counted you out because you're, you."

"I never suspected _you_," he told her.

"We have very different views when it comes to things like that. You think I can do no wrong, but I, however, think you are capable of great violence, even though I don't think you'd ever channel that."

"Thanks, Bones, that's just what I wanted to hear," he huffed, uncrossing his arms so he could put his head in his hands in irritation, "listen, can we just, end this session before I wind up getting really angry? Because, I'm well on my way there."

"I don't want to make you angry," she apologized in her own way, reaching up to straighten his tie affectionately, "just, well informed," she paused when he looked at her seriously, the irritation clear in his expression, "listen, I'm not trying to make any accusations. I just want the facts, that's all. And, I want to know, honestly, if you did anything I should know about."

"No, I didn't kill Villeda," he looked into her eyes when he spoke, making sure he knew he was serious, "did you?"

"No," she promised, "I didn't," she paused, half smiling at her partner, "do you believe me?"

"Yeah," Booth smiled back, laughing softly, "I believe you," he glanced over at Sweets, who seemed to be observing them carefully, as his smile faded, and he huffed lightly, "Sweets, you have that shrink-y look on your face. What is it?"

Sweets looked concerned before he spoke.

"You two," he gestured between the two of them, "have some very serious underlying trust issues, and I'm actually surprised I never noticed it before."

"Alright, Doc, I'm already lost," Booth admitted, a small smile on his face when he glanced at Brennan.

"It's not really a joking matter, Agent Booth," Sweets said, seriously, "the fact that you don't, and maybe can't, trust one another is troubling. Not only is that going to eventually ruin your intimate relationship, but it's going to ruin your friendship, and ultimately your partnership."

"Why?" Brennan asked.

"How can you work in high-risk situations with someone you can't trust?" Sweets asked, rhetorically, "Now I know you trust him in some ways, and he trusts you in those same ways, but neither of you trust what the other is saying when it comes to how they're feeling," he paused when he received confused expressions from both of them, "Doctor Brennan, why did you feel the need to ask if Booth believed you when you said you didn't murder Miguel Villeda?"

Brennan paused, having to think for a minute before she responded.

"Because Booth is important to me, and I want to make sure he believes that I didn't murder a man. I'd hardly classify that as us having 'trust issues'."

"And why do you think you had to ask if he believed you?" Brennan was silent, knowing she was about to be proven wrong, "Because you don't believe that he believes what you say the first time around. You trust Booth to protect you from gang leaders, and to save your life, but you don't trust how he feels about you, and that's a problem."

"I don't see how that's a problem," Brennan shrugged, "I think trusting him with my life is far more important than trusting his feelings for me."

"The trust needs to be complete," he explained, "it can't just go one way."

"Sweets, make your point," Booth cut in, not wanting to listen to his psychological explanation of why they didn't trust each other, which, Booth knew, was completely wrong.

"You have to work on trusting one another," he concluded.

"That's all?" Booth asked.

"That's all," Sweets confirmed, "unless you'd like me to assign celibacy again."

"No," Brennan said, almost a little too quickly, "I'm moving in tonight, and it's tradition that on the night a couple moves in together, they engage in sexual intercourse."

"I have, never heard of that tradition," Sweets told her.

"It's a popular one, look it up," Booth half joked with the psychologist, standing up with his partner, placing his hand on the small of her back, "thanks Sweets, great talk."

"I think we should probably discuss this further," he said, his voice low, since he knew they weren't going to listen anyway.

"Can we resume at a more convenient time? I should probably go back to my apartment and start packing," Brennan asked, but had already made up her mind, as she let her partner lead her to the door.

"Was that a question, or a 'we're going to finish this conversation later' type statement?"

"I think the second one is more accurate," Brennan said, truthfully, as Booth pulled open the door and lead her out, "have a good night, Doctor Sweets."

Sweets simply waved, even though, mid-wave, he heard the door to his office shut tightly. He didn't feel he had to tell her to have a good night as well, since, from what they just discussed, he was pretty sure she was going to have much more than a 'good night'.


	73. You Really Are My Best Friend

**A/N: I'm so sorry that took so long, everyone. For some reason I was just having trouble finding the time to write in the past week or so. I need a break from school, so I'm glad Christmas is coming soon. Once I get my break, then my fingers will be motivated to type again. xD **

**And, as usual, thank you all for the feedback, and thank you for being so patient. **

Chapter Seventy-Three:

"You Really Are My Best Friend"

The streetlights outside Booth's bedroom made little lines of light in the pattern of the blinds on Brennan's bare skin, the moonlit room calmly silent and serene. She smiled and made a small kitten like sound of appreciation when she felt the scratch of her partner's stubble against her soft skin as he kissed gently across her collarbone.

"You know you don't have to be so gentle," she reminded him, instinctively tilting her head up when he kissed the side of her throat, "I'm not made of glass."

Booth kissed the line of her jaw, her chin, then finally her lips, feeling her lips loosen under his, indicating that she was no longer pursing them. She stayed quiet as he moved over her face, never responding to her 'glass' comment, leaving little kisses over her skin.

"I love making love to you," he whispered when he reached her ear, kissing her earlobe softly, "my Bones."

"I know you do," she laughed softly, squirming slightly when his breath tickled her ear, "and I love making love to you too."

"Your Booth," he reminded her, when she left that part out.

"Precisely," she smiled, stroking the back of his head affectionately, "and you missed a spot," she pointed to her forehead, smiling cutely.

Booth laughed lightly and moved his lips to her forehead, placing a gentle kiss against the skin there, causing her to wrinkle her nose and smile in satisfaction.

"Bones, I'm so glad you decided to move in with me," he told her, honestly, kissing the tip of her nose, "I was starting to think," he paused to kiss her lips again, "you never would."

"I was planning on waiting at least a year," she told him, "just to be certain that this was going to be long term before I made that step. But, after thinking it through, I realized I didn't really need any more proof that this is going to be long term."

"Aw," he responded with the simple word, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes for her.

"Don't 'aw' me," Brennan laughed lightly, brushing a hand through his hair, "you know I hate that."

"Which is why I do it," he reminded her, kissing her cheek gently when she rolled her eyes, "come on, Bones. You don't think just because we live together now I'm going to stop teasing you, now do you?"

"I guess you just cleared that up for me," she laughed, "although now I'm beginning to question if moving in with you was a mistake. Now you get to screw with me even more."

"You love it," he accused, "I get under your skin," he touched the top of her chest gently with his index finger, "and you pretend it annoys you, but you secretly enjoy every second of it."

"You caught me," her voice was sarcastic, wrapping an arm around the back of his neck, tracing the fingers of the other hand over the warm skin of his back.

Booth leaned down to kiss her shoulder in response to her actions.

"I've known," he informed her, glancing over at her half unpacked bags sitting next to the dresser, "you never finished unpacking."

"What can I say, you're very distracting," Brennan smiled, pulling herself up to peck her partner's lips, "and it's not like me to loose focus."

"You're forever a changing woman," he told her, "in a good way."

"Well I'm glad you approve of the way I'm changing," she said, a small smile on her face.

The dark room was quiet for a few seconds, with only the sounds of cars passing by outside as background noise. Booth tucked lock of hair behind Brennan's ear, brushing his fingers over her cheek afterwards.

"Maybe you should finish," he suggested.

Brennan groaned in a whining tone as she glanced over at the half unpacked bags, then back up at her partner, who had a playful smile on his face as he leaned over her, resting his weight on his forearms.

"Maybe," Brennan paused, smiling when he looked into her eyes with a genuinely happy expression, "or maybe, it could wait until morning."

Booth laughed lightly, cupping the side of her face gently.

"Yeah," he agreed, with a smile, "it can wait until morning."

Brennan smiled as well and leaned up to capture his lips, closing her eyes as she got completely sucked into the passionate kiss, the unpacked bags being the last thing on her mind for the rest of the night as they proceeded to make love for the second time that night.

* * *

Brennan traced her fingers over Booth's shoulder blades, examining the long, red, lines running down his back, along with other old scars and marks.

"Bones, are you watching me sleep?" The sound of his half asleep voice took Brennan by surprise, since she was almost positive that he was fully unconscious.

"How did you figure that out if you were sleeping?" She asked.

"Army training," he reminded her, his eyes never opening throughout the duration of the conversation, "I know when people are watching me."

Brennan moved her hand to trace the red marks on his back.

"Did I do this to you?" She asked.

"Mhm," he responded sleepily, turning his head to look over his shoulder at her, "I liked it though. Didn't even hurt."

"It looks like it hurt," she observed, swiping her thumb over one of the long lines, pausing at one specific spot, "and here it looks like I actually drew blood."

"It's not a big deal," he promised, smiling when she pressed her lips to his shoulder, "even though it'll probably sting when I get in the shower."

"Well maybe I'll just have to join you to make sure you're okay," she suggested.

"Excuses, excuses," Booth laughed lightly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders so he could pull her close, allowing her to rest her head against his chest, "you just don't want to unpack."

"That's also a possibility," she admitted, closing her eyes when he stroked her hair softly, "I'm fairly comfortable here."

"We _do_ have jobs you know," he reminded her.

"Mmm," Brennan purred when his fingers brushed against the back of her neck, "must have slipped my mind."

Booth laughed lightly and rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Bones," he said, but never stopped the stroking of her hair, "we should probably get up."

"No," Brennan whined, turning lazily over onto her stomach so she could press her forehead against his chest.

"Bones," he laughed, poking gently at her shoulder, "come on. If I let you sleep we'll have to shower separately."

"I don't want to sleep," she informed him, propping herself up on her elbows so she could kiss his chest softly, "I just want to lay and, converse."

"Converse," he contemplated the word aloud, "sexy," his voice was sarcastic as Brennan rolled her eyes, "oh, come on. You can't deny that pillow talk isn't exactly your strong suit."

"I'm working on it," she told him, sitting up picking her head up from his chest to sit up straight, "normally, when I'm undressed in bed with you, I don't really like to use words."

"That's hot," he commented, "_you're_ hot."

"Don't try to flatter me," Brennan rolled her eyes playfully, taking her weight off of her elbows so she could tuck herself under his arm, resting her head back against his chest.

"I wasn't," Booth laughed, smoothing his hand down her back, "only 'stating a fact', as you would say," Brennan picked up her head to give him a dirty look, "see? I listen to you?"

Brennan mumbled something inaudible against his chest as she closed her eyes again, the feeling of his warm hand stroking her back not doing much to keep her awake.

"Bones, you can't go back to sleep," he laughed, "we just went in late two days ago."

"Angela always told me it's okay to come in late if you're spending time with a man."

"You're going to take work advice from Angela?" He chuckled, "She's a great person and all, but not exactly the shining example of appropriate work behavior."

"And we are?" Brennan asked, picking up her head to look at him, "Mr. Let's-have-sex-in-the-storage-room."

"If my memory serves me, and I know for a fact that it does, you're the one who wanted that," he laughed, kissing her lips once, "I believe it was you moaning 'make love to me, Booth'."

"I don't remember you objecting either," she pointed out.

"Ha," he scoffed, rubbing the back of her neck gently, "like you gave me a choice. How am I supposed to say no when you're whimpering and moaning in my ear?"

"I do not whimper," she said defensively, shifting her weight back onto her elbows so her eyes could meet his, "and you know, the fact that you have trouble saying no to me means that you're impulsive. You need to learn something about self control. Next time I try to initiate intercourse in the workplace, take a second to think about it, then make a logical decision."

Booth was quiet for a minute, completely appalled by her suggestion.

"How about you just stop trying to have sex with me at work?"

"It's not always me," she shrugged, as if that were obvious, "and I know how to give you a metaphorical slap on the wrist and say no when it's you."

"So this is all me? You have nothing to do with it?"

"Essentially."

"You know what your problem is?" He asked, not even bothering to argue with her at the moment, "You, Bones, can never admit when you're wrong. So you push all the blame off on me and make me look like an impulsive, sex addicted, animal," he paused when her mouth opened slightly, indicating her shock, "don't give me that surprised look like you don't know what I'm talking about. I remember giving you the perfect opportunity to stop me in the storage room, but instead you started making those little_ whimpering _sounds and begging me to make love to you."

"You're hard to resist, especially when you have your hands all over me" she nearly stuttered on the words as they defensively flew out of her mouth.

"Exactly, and so are you, which is why we're constantly going at it at work," he told her, feeling as if they'd cleared something up, even though that fact pretty much went without saying, "I'm surprised no one's found out yet. Other than Sweets I mean."

Brennan felt her stomach drop when he mentioned no one finding out. Apparently it slipped her mind, and she completely forgot to mention the little security camera incident to him.

"About that," she started, seeing his smile quickly fade when she spoke in a wary voice, "remember when I said Hodgins and Angela used to go down to the storage room all the time, and that's how I knew there was no way we'd get caught down there," she paused, taking his silence as a sign to continue, "well, apparently, the reason they don't go down there anymore is because, well, at some point security cameras were installed."

"You're pulling my leg," he accused.

Brennan shook her head.

"I wish I was," she said, her voice quiet with shame.

"How do you know someone's not just pulling _your_ leg?" He asked.

"Well, the man working the security cameras got a nice show," she ran her fingers nervously through her hair, "he gave the video to Cam. Cam gave the video to me."

"Cam watched our sex tape?" He put his head in his hands in embarrassment.

"I don't know if she watched the whole thing," Brennan shrugged, not nearly as embarrassed as he was, "I know you're probably feeling uncomfortable because Cam is your ex, but she didn't comment on the actual content of the video, only that we have to keep it under control at work so she doesn't get in trouble."

"Well I'm not surprised," Booth rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face to make sure that she didn't take him too seriously, "did you expect her to just come up and say, 'Oh, hey, Doctor Brennan. You know that sex tape I have of you and Booth? Yeah, you guys look like you have an exciting sex life. So, nice weather we're having,'?"

"Booth, you're getting slightly worked up."

"My ex girlfriend gave you a tape of us doing the dirty deed in the Egyptian storage room. Can you not see why that makes me a little uptight?"

"No," Brennan said honestly, pushing her hair over one shoulder, "listen, I shouldn't have said anything in the first place," she paused, looking up at him once more, "Can we go have sex in the shower now?"

Booth couldn't help but laugh at her blunt request.

"You have such a way with words," he joked.

"I didn't think asking to wash would be accurate, since we both know what happens when we get into the shower together."

Booth laughed as Brennan trailed her fingers down his chest.

"You're _so_ sexy," he commented, a smile on his face as he grasped her fingers gently and pulled them to his lips to press soft kisses to them.

"I don't understand what was 'sexy' about that. It was the truth," she was slightly confused by her partner's logic.

"You're bluntness is sexy," he clarified, "everything about you is sexy."

"You're very complimentary today," she observed.

Booth smiled a Booth-y grin at her, just looking into her eyes, which looked almost see-through that morning. He noticed, over the past few months, that when they were that color, it usually indicated passion and honesty.

"You really are my best friend," he told her, almost as if out of no where, stroking her cheek affectionately, "I get you, Bones, and you get me. I don't have that with a lot of people."

"I'm not entirely sure how to respond to that," she said, honestly.

"Just smile, nod, and agree," he instructed her, "and tell me you love me."

"That's easy enough," she smiled, nodding once, as he instructed her to, "I love you," she paused, her smile changing from playful to grateful and content in a matter of seconds, "much more than I ever thought possible."

"Thank you," Booth smiled back at her.

"Don't thank me for being truthful," she insisted, "just, tell me you love me too."

Booth leaned down to capture her lips gently, cupping her cheek affectionately as he showed her that he loved her too, rather than telling her.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing the corner of her mouth gently, teasing her lips as she whimpered and attempted to pull his mouth back to hers, "and you're whimpering again."

"I am not," she mumbled, making a small sound of disapproval when his lips moved to the side of her neck, "oh," she whispered in a breathy voice when he lingered slightly longer on one of the sensitive spots he'd memorized on her neck, "you sure know how to make a woman feel good."

Brennan, in the back of her mind, had to wonder how many women in the past were reduced to moaning, whimpering, messes under his talented lips, suddenly feeling a little pinch of jealousy stab at her stomach. At that moment, she'd felt more possessive than she ever had. Booth was _hers_. And it didn't matter how many women there were in the past, because none of them mattered anymore. Although, the thought of him with another woman did make her stomach feel a little uneasy, she knew that wouldn't be happening again. He was hers now, and only hers.

"I know how to make _you_ feel good," he whispered huskily against her skin, after, what felt like, a drawn out pause, "so let me ask you something, Bones. Who makes you feel better? Me or Sully?"

"You," she whispered back, without hesitation.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," he teased, knowing good and well what she said, "who?"

"You," she repeated, a little louder that time, to make sure he could hear, "Seeley Booth," she pushed gently on the back of his head to direct him to where she wanted to be kissed.

"Relax, Bones," he said gently, bringing his kisses to a halt to look up into her eyes, his fingers stroking gently down her sides, "I know where."

"You could have fooled me," she breathed out slowly.

"Alright, Miss Wise Ass," he traced his finger around her naval, "you must think I'm an amateur in the bedroom. I know you, Bones. And I especially know you want to be kissed right here," he moved his finger from her stomach to touch the specific spot on her collarbone that provoked a reaction from her, "you don't have to jam my neck to show me."

"I'm a little impatient," she admitted.

"Surprise, surprise," his voice was sarcastic.

"Don't get smart with me," she warned him.

"I'm just surprised your using the word 'smart' when you're talking about me," he smiled playfully at her, "you think I'm an idiot."

"No I don't," she assured him, "I don't think you're as smart as me, but I don't think there's very many people who are as smart as me."

Booth rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face.

"Your ego's showing."

"I'm simply stating a fact," she paused when she heard a faint noise coming from the hallway, "do you hear that?"

"Yeah, Bones, it's called someone's knocking on the door," he told her, slipping out of bed with his partner to quickly throw on whatever clothing was closest to him, "get dressed."

"It's for you," she complained, "why do _I_ have to get dressed?"

"Fine, then walk around naked," he raised his hands in defeat once he was dressed as he stepped out of the bedroom to go answer the door, "you just love to argue with me."

Brennan simply rolled her eyes, staying silent as she opened her still unpacked bag to put on a simple t-shirt and jeans, just to wear until she got dressed for work. Booth opened the door once he reached it, immediatly taking notice to his ex lover standing in the doorway.

"Hey, Rebecca," his smile faded when he saw her as he began to get slightly nervous. Usually Rebecca didn't just show up at his apartment, "what happened? Is Parker okay?"

"Parker's fine," she assured him, "something just came up at work, and I was hoping you'd be able to take him. I know it's a day early, but I figured you wouldn't mind spending the extra time with him."

"No, of course not," Booth said with a nod of his head, "where is he?"

"He's getting a drink out of the vending machine down the hall now," Rebecca smiled gratefully, as Parker came running to the door with a can of iced tea in one hand and a handheld video game in the other, "thank you, Seeley."

"Not a problem," Booth assured her, "you know I love hanging out with Parker," he looked at the little boy, holding out his hand to pound fists with the child, "right, bud?"

"Right," Parker agreed cheerfully, struggling to switch both things into one hand to do 'knuckles' with his father, finally managing to hold out his empty fist and bump it to his dad's.


	74. Is Bones Having a Baby?

Chapter Seventy-Four:

"Is Bones Having a Baby?"

"Hey dad," Parker asked, after only a minute of sitting on the couch with his handheld, catching his father's attention as he looked around for his new roommate, wondering what was taking her so long, "am I going to get to go to your job?"

"Yes but, I'm warning you now, you'll be bored," he warned the little boy, who seemed to think he was going to get to go out into the field with him, "if I have to leave the office, you'll have to stay with someone."

"Aw," Parker whined, putting his game down on the coffee table, "why can't I go look at dead guys with you and Doctor Bones?"

"Because I'm not staying up with you all night while you have nightmares," Booth explained, "you'll think it's cool when we're there, but once we get back here you'll be in my room crying that you can't sleep."

"I would not," the little boy seemed appalled that his father would think such a thing, "I want to see a real skeleton. I've seen fake ones at the museum, but I've never seen an actual dead guy. I bet I can get Doctor Bones to show me a dead guy. She's cool."

Brennan, hearing her name in someone's voice other than Booth's, went out into the living room to meet them, smiling and waving to her partner's son when their eyes met.

"Hi, Doctor Bones," Parker greeted her, seeming genuinely surprised to see her there, "why are you at my dad's house?"

"Well your father and I-"

"Listen, Bones, sorry to cut you off, but I think I should probably tell him," Booth looked at her with apologetic eyes when he interrupted her, turning back to Parker, "buddy, Bones and I, we live together now. So you're staying with both of us."

Parker narrowed his eyes, exchanging glanced between the two adults.

"Are you my dad's girlfriend now?" He asked, when he turned his attention to Brennan.

"Yes, I guess you could say I am," Brennan looked from her partner to his son, with an authentic smile on her face.

"Do you and my dad sleep together?"

"Woah, okay, no more Discovery Channel for you," Booth's face flushed slightly as he patted the little boy's blonde head.

"Yes, we do, Parker. Often too. We have a very active sex life."

"Bones!"

"It's the truth. I think, in order to have a healthy relationship with your mates child, you need to be honest."

"That doesn't mean describing our sex life to him! Besides, he already likes you. And not to mention the word 'mate' makes us sound like chimps."

"He knows me as his father's best friend. Now that we have initiated a romantic relationship I don't want his opinion of me to change."

"You guys know I can hear you," Parker interrupted their bickering when they talked about him as if he wasn't sitting three feet away.

They both looked over at Parker, then back to each other, the new silence taking over the room seeming to be an awkward one. It was only a few seconds before Booth broke the silence, clasping his hands together before he spoke.

"Alright, I need to go get ready for work, Bones, why don't you show Parker some pictures of ancient bones from the people of the Shamalamadingdong tribe while I take a shower."

"I need to shower too," Brennan reminded him, her mouth slightly agape when he just completely threw their plans to shower together out the window, "and you know there's no such tribe as the Shamalamadingdongs."

Booth huffed when he remembered he couldn't even use the 'it's my house so I get to use the shower first' argument, since, technically, this was her home too.

"Bones, can you just, let me shower first?" He pled.

"I need time to dry my hair and you're going to get impatient if you have to sit around and wait for me. So the logical thing to do would be to let me shower first."

"But you take too long in the shower."

"I have more hair than you, of course I take longer."

"Oh you know your hair has nothing to do with it. You just like to take your sweet time in the shower, for whatever reason."

"I do not. You're the one who just stands under the water for no reason."

They continued to bicker over the shower, as opposed to just picking who was going to shower first, until Parker cut them off again.

"You guys fight a lot," he observed, "are you sure you're boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"We don't fight, we bicker," Brennan corrected the child, "it's a common misconception."

Parker looked at his dad, approval in his eyes.

"I like when she uses big words."

It suddenly dawned on Booth that he should probably have a talk with his son, in order to help him understand what was going on between he and Brennan. He knew he wasn't a baby anymore, and that he probably understood on his own, but he didn't want him to feel like he was trying to keep her a secret, or like Brennan was stealing him away from his son.

"So do I," Booth responded to Parker's previous comment, looking back to Brennan, "you know, you can use the shower first. I want to catch up with Parker."

"Okay," Brennan agreed, secretly let down that their previous plans were off, but not letting it show, since she knew how Booth got when it came to having his kid in the house.

Once Brennan disappeared into the bathroom, Booth took a seat next to his son, who was completely absorbed in his handheld.

"Whatcha' playing?" He asked, peeking over his shoulder.

"A game," Parker responded vaguely, glancing up at his dad with a skeptical expression.

Parker was a pretty smart kid, and he knew that he was just trying to create small talk. After a few seconds of quiet once again, Booth decided to take a Brennan-like approach, and just talk to him openly about the situation.

"Do you understand the situation with Bones and I?" He asked, seeing Parker look up from his game attentively.

"Yes," Parker responded with a nod, setting his game back on the coffee table, "you and Doctor Bones sex each other up."

"Yeah, but, Parker, that's not it," he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, feeling incredibly uncomfortable discussing his sex life with his young son, "I really care about Bones, in more than a friend way. I love her, and she loves me, but that won't make me love you any less."

"I know," Parker responded casually, "you explained the same thing when you were dating Doctor Saroyan."

"I know, but, with Bones and I," he searched for the right way to put it, a way that Parker would be able to understand, "it's different than my relationship with Doctor Saroyan."

"Why?" Parker asked the one question that Booth didn't want him to ask, since he wasn't exactly sure 'why', "did you and Doctor Saroyan not sex each other up?"

"Parker, you really need to stop with that," Booth huffed, unsure as to where this obsession came from all of the sudden, "how do you even know what that means?"

"Kids at school," he said with a shrug of his shoulders, "I'm not a baby, dad."

"Which is why I'm having an adult conversation with you," Booth told him, wanting to make sure that his son didn't believe that he still thought he was a baby, "I'm only telling you all this because I don't want you to feel like Bones is trying to steal me away from you, because she's not. She wants to spend time with you too, kind of like a family."

"Are you and Bones getting married?" Parker asked, jumping topics again, the way children usually did.

"No, buddy, we're not," Booth laughed lightly.

"Then you're not a family."

"Hey, of course we are. There's more than one kind of family, and we're our own kind. I think Bones wants you to be part of our family too."

"I'm your son, I'm already part."

"No, you're part of _my_ family," Booth corrected him, "we want you to be part of the family we're making."

"Is Bones having a baby?" Parker asked, misinterpreting the 'making a family' comment.

"What?" Booth was taken slightly off guard by his question, his eyes widening in surprise, "no, no she's not. No babies. No."

"You said you were making a family," Parker reminded him.

"I just meant with the two of us. We're not having a baby, not yet at least."

Parker looked disappointed when he heard they weren't having a child.

"I want a little brother," he told his father, looking up at him with hopeful eyes, "can you ask Doctor Bones if she wants to have a baby so I can have a little brother?"

"Parker," Booth was surprised by his request, "no."

"Why not?"

"You don't ask people that, that's why."

"What if she wants to?"

"She doesn't."

"I said _what if."_

"Parker, let it go," Booth told him, "maybe you'll have a little brother eventually, just, not yet."

Parker let it go, as he was told to, and swung his feet back and forth, looking at the ground as they sat quietly for a few seconds.

"So you're not getting married, and you're not having a baby, but you're a family?"

"Yes," Booth nodded in confirmation, "I'd like to think we are."

"How?" The little boy asked, completely lost by this point.

"Because, buddy, it doesn't matter if we're married, or if we have kids. Bones and I love each other and we want to be with each other for a very long time. That's what a family is. People who care about each other forever."

"I care about my friends, but when we made a family tree in Social Studies I didn't put them on it," Parker pointed out.

"That's different," Booth told his son, not explaining why it was different, since he wasn't really sure why.

Parker scratched the back of his head uncomfortably.

"This is confusing," he complained.

"Things with Bones are always confusing," Booth filled him in, with a small laugh, "but do you understand a little? To the best of your ability?"

"Sure," Parker shrugged.

"Good," Booth was silently relieved that his son understood, as best as he could at least, "I just, didn't want you to have any questions or anything, and I think you're old enough and mature enough to understand what's what."

"Thanks dad," Parker looked beyond proud when he received the compliment.

Booth just smiled at the little boy when he heard the door to the bathroom open, indicating that Brennan was finished with her shower.

"Alright bud, you gonna be okay by yourself for a little while?" Booth asked.

"Yeah," Parker responded, "I have my video game."

"Alright, good," he smiled, patting the little boy's head once more, feeling him duck out from under his hand because he hated when his father patted the top of his blonde curls.

Booth turned to go into his bedroom, stopping to turn and face his son.

"Parker?"

"Yeah?" The little boy asked, looking up from his game.

"I'm proud of you, buddy."

"Doctor Bones?" Parker asked, twisting around in Brennan's office chair as she examined the skull of an ancient Native American with a magnifying glass in one hand and the skull in the other, "Is that a real dead guy?"

"Yes it is," she responded, finding herself squinting when she looked at the skull, "this particular skull appears to be of a descendent of the Incas, a tribe from South America," she quickly caught herself doing exactly what Booth told her not to do, "but, your father probably wouldn't want me to tell you that. He told me not to discuss my work with you."

"He still thinks I'm three," Parker told her honestly, "I don't wake him up in the middle of the night anymore."

"Apparently he still believes you do," she said, "he's worried the skeletons will frighten you."

"They won't," he promised her, "I think they're cool."

"Would you like to pursue a career in anthropology?" She asked curiously.

"No. I want to be a baseball player."

"The odds of you becoming a professional athlete of any sort are very, very, low."

"I like you," Parker concluded, even though most children would be insulted by her comment, "you always tell the truth," he paused, wanting to use her honest quality to his advantage, "do you want to marry my dad?"

"No, Parker, I don't," she responded honestly, her voice still light and happy sounding as she spoke, "I love your father, very much, but marriage is a-" she stopped herself before she could go on a rant, "it's just not for me."

"But I thought when two people love each other they get married?"

"Marriage is simply a piece of paper. I don't need paper to prove my commitment to your father," she tried to explain, "he knows that I love him without it, and he knows I don't find the idea of marriage appealing, so we compromised. No marriage."

Parker looked at her in thought, stopping the twisting in her office chair.

"Will you guys have kids?" He asked, wanting her opinion on the subject, since he figured his father was just assuming she didn't want children.

"Maybe some day," she responded, setting the skull down so her full attention could be on their conversation, "but not anytime soon."

"Why not?"

"Because we're not ready for a child yet. I know someday we may be, but right now, your father and I are very busy with work and our personal lives, and I think a baby would just make things very hectic, even though we'd be able to hire a nanny to take care of it during work hours."

Parker nodding understandingly, resuming his spinning around in the chair.

"Why did my dad leave me here with you?" He finally asked.

Brennan was silently relieved that they were off the subject of she and Booth's relationship, since, even though she didn't mind answering his questions, she felt like she had to word every answer carefully, afraid he would misinterpret her answers and run and tell his father something completely different than what she meant.

"He got a call, he had to do something for work."

Almost as if on cue, Brennan's office door opened quietly, and her partner stepped inside, not having the usual smile on his face. Instead, he looked somber, like something was bothering him.

"Booth," Brennan's voice was concerned, "you look like something's upsetting you."

Booth simply glanced at her before turning his attention to Parker.

"Bud, why don't you go see what Angela's doing," he suggested.

Parker, knowing that was Booth's way of saying 'beat it', nodded and left, making his way down to Angela's office.

"Booth, what's going on?" Brennan tried again when he clicked the door shut behind his son, "are you upset because we're being suspected for murder, because, unless they found some sort of fake evidence, they can't arrest either one of us."

"That's, not it," Booth shook his head, taking a pause before he finally filled her in, "Max had a heart attack."

"Max," Brennan repeated the name, feeling a little lightheaded when he spoke the words, "Max, as in, my father?"

Booth nodded again.

"Is he okay?" She asked, feeling her eyes start to sting with tears.

"I don't know," Booth told her, honestly, "I'm gonna take you to the hospital to see him."

Brennan was the one to nod this time as she gathered her purse and her coat.

"What about Parker?" She asked when he took her arm gently to lead her out of her office.

"I already spoke to Angela, she said she'd keep an eye on him."

Brennan simply nodded again, using the arm that wasn't being held to wipe her tears. When Booth glanced over at her and saw she was crying, he stopped and stepped in front of her, taking her face comfortingly between his hands.

"Hey," he whispered, as she tore her eyes from the floor to look at him, "it's okay, Bones," he wiped away a stray tear on her cheek with his thumb, "everything's going to be okay. I'm here for you."

"I know," Brennan whispered back, sniffing once before he kissed her forehead tenderly and let go of her face, taking her hand comfortingly in his as they left the lab together.


	75. Pretend It's The Wind

**A/N: Of course, thank you to everyone who's given feedback. I'm not sure in how many different ways I can express that, because I only know one language. xD But if I knew another, I'd thank you all in that one too. **

**Here's just a little chapter of fluff. I haven't been up to writing anything intense, since I've been feeling like crap. xD So enjoy. =]**

Chapter Seventy-Five:

"Pretend It's The Wind"

"These damn nurses all think I can't take care of myself," Max complained to his daughter, who was standing by his bedside with a look of distress on her face, "come on, sweetheart, don't look so upset."

"Dad, you just had a heart attack," Brennan reminded him, "I was nervous coming over here, I thought you could be dead, and when I come in you just complain about being babied."

"I'm not trying to upset you, Tempe, I'm just, independent," he explained, "like you."

"I didn't have a heart attack. My independence won't harm me."

Max sighed, feeling guilty for making his daughter worry about him. Brennan, however, paid no mind to his apologetic gesture standing with her arms crossed across her chest, only relaxing slightly when she felt her partner rub her shoulder gently, in an attempt to calm her down and comfort her at the same time.

"It was a minor heart attack," Max assured her, "I'm ready to go home tonight, but they're insisting that I stay here. I'm a full grown man. I don't need these kids in scrubs watching my every move. I'm as old as most of their parents, maybe older, for God sakes!"

"Age is irrelevant in this situation," Brennan mumbled, pausing as she subconsciously leaned in to Booth's touch, "I think maybe I should stay with you once you're released, just for a few days, until I'm sure you're okay. You know, if you don't change your habits, you're just going to go into cardiac arrest again."

"No, Tempe, I don't need to be babysat," Max huffed, trying to keep the complaints to a minimum, since he knew she had good intentions, "besides, I wouldn't want to impose on your time with your boyfriend."

"Booth and I live together now, spending a few days apart would not be a big deal," she assured him, "and I don't necessarily like the word 'boyfriend'. It sounds childish."

"Yeah, Max, your health is more important than our love life," Booth added in, "let Bones stay with you for a few days."

Max leaned his head back and closed his eyes in frustration. It wasn't that he didn't love his daughter and didn't want her staying with him, he was just not the type of man to lay in bed while other people did things for him, which was where Brennan got her bold and independent personality.

"Tempe," he groaned in frustration, "I'm perfectly fine."

"You need to eat healthier," she told him, "and you shouldn't do anything to strenuous for the next few days."

"I'm fine," he repeated, "and define 'strenuous'. Like, lifting a truck?"

Brennan rolled her eyes at how he managed to be sarcastic even after a heart attack.

"And that is exactly why I'm insisting on staying with you," she said, simply, "not for an extended amount of time, just until I feel you'll be able to manage on your own."

"I already can manage on my own."

Brennan shook her head with a smile, giving up on arguing with him and just deciding she was staying with him when he was released, whether he liked it or not.

"Do you want me to stay here with you?" She asked.

"Yeah, for a few minutes," Max smiled back, his simple smile making his daughter glad that he was okay, "we can teach Booth how to play that card game you love."

* * *

Brennan sighed in satisfaction when Booth gripped her shoulders gently, rubbing them to relieve the tension from the day's stress all built up in her muscles. She tilted her head back to lean it against his shoulder, laughing lightly when his touch tickled her shoulder blade.

"Oh, Bones, I'm gonna miss you when you go to stay with your father," he told her, pressing a kiss to her fabric covered shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "I just, want to make sure he's okay."

"I know," Booth assured her, "and I have Parker, so I won't be lonely. Besides, absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Not when you've shared a bed with your lover for the past few months," Brennan reminded him, craning her neck to kiss the side of his throat, "I'm going to miss you too. Maybe one night you can sneak over, late at night and we can make passionate love until you have to hurry home before Parker wakes up," she smiled at her own fantasy.

"That's so not going to happen," he laughed lightly, "I'd never have my way with you in your father's house. It's, unholy."

"You and your Catholic beliefs," she mumbled, kissing the skin on his neck that she could reach from her current position.

"Not to mention I would never leave Parker here alone."

"It's just a fantasy, Booth. I'm going to need a lot of them while I'm staying with my father."

Booth laughed lightly, never pausing the rubbing of her shoulders, even when she showered feather light kisses up and down his pulse point.

"Well then maybe I should give you more material to work with," he suggested quietly into her ear.

Brennan laughed in a breathy tone, surprised by his suggestion, since she knew he got very prude-ish when it came to having his kid in the house.

"With Parker here?" She asked, immediatly wishing she could take it back, since she thought maybe that would make him change his mind, turning to face him.

"Yes, but you're going to be very, very, quiet," he paused to take his turn at kissing softly down her neck, "one pinch away from silent."

"I'm not sure if I can manage that," she said, honestly.

"You're going to try," he told her, rather than asked, disconnecting his lips from her skin to look her in the eyes, gripping the front of her blouse gently, "just tuck your head into my shoulder if you can't control your volume."

Brennan nodded, glancing down at his fingers, which were now starting to work at the buttons of her white blouse, seeming to have some difficulty with them.

"You wore this shirt on purpose," he accused, "you like watching me struggle."

"No, I actually wore this shirt because I know it's difficult to get off, and I figured you wouldn't be undressing me tonight so it wouldn't be a problem," she explained, "and shouldn't I dress up in some sort of sexy lingerie or something? Considering this will be the last time we make love for quite some time."

"Bones, you know you don't have to dress up for me," he told her, "and besides, we can't waste time. We need to do this early just incase Parker wakes up in the middle of the night."

"He could wake up right now," she reminded him, "and changing won't take up that much time."

Booth simply ignored her, for the sake of not starting an argument, as his less than nimble fingers continued to struggle with the tiny buttons.

"What the hell is up with this shirt?" He laughed lightly, even though his words were completely serious, "I think this thing is childproof."

"Not a great blouse to wear on a first date, I guess," she joked.

"Don't even say that," he told her, feeling her push his hands away to take care of the buttons on her own, "I'm the only guy who's ever going to be undressing you."

Brennan slid a hand up his fabric covered back when she felt him duck his head to kiss the center of her chest slowly.

"Getting possessive, I see," she observed, tangling her fingers into his hair.

"What can I say? I'm an alpha male," he smirked playfully, gently urging her towards the bed.

Brennan pulled on his tie before he could go too far.

"Wait," she whispered, loosening the knot in his tie, "it's my turn to undress you."

"You're shirt's not even off your shoulders," he reminded her, "I'd hardly count that as undressing someone."

"Come on, Booth. Humor me," she mumbled, taking her time removing his tie, "I love taking your ties off of you, and this is the last time I'll have that chance for-"

"Oh come on, Bones, you're acting like you're taking a year long vacation to Addis Ababa," he rolled his eyes at how dramatic she could get when he interrupted her, "you're only going to Max's for a few days, maximum."

"Fine, if it's no big deal, then I'll just change into my pajamas and go to bed," she suggested.

"Now we both know that's not going to happen, so get back to work on that tie," he smiled, tugging her shirt gently down her shoulders before he moved her bra strap aside to kiss her shoulder.

"You know, slave and master fetishes are some of the oldest," she informed him, ruffling her fingers through his hair as she tilted her head to the side in pleasure.

"Slave and master?" He asked, kissing gently to the crook of her neck.

"Get back to work on that tie?" She quoted him, "you're asserting your dominance."

"Oh, jeez, I was only being affectionate," he rolled his eyes, "I don't have a fetish. There are plenty of freaks in this world, and I am not one of them."

"Fetishism does not make you a freak," she rolled her eyes back at him, as he pressed his palm to her lower back to lay her gently on the sheets of the bed, moving up to kiss softly along her hairline, "if you ever wanted to indulge in roleplaying that would not altar my opinion of you."

"No thank you," he whispered, kissing her cheek gently, "no roleplaying for me."

"Are you sure, Mr. Booth?" She whispered huskily, pressing her lips back to the side of his neck, as she worked on the buttons of his shirt, "because I clearly remember you wanting to play teacher/student a while ago."

Booth tunneled his fingers into her hair, tugging her face gently back up to his so he could kiss her lips once more.

"That's different," he smiled.

"How so?" Brennan asked, curiously.

Booth, not having an answer to that question, simply kissed her again, not breaking it this time, simply letting their mouth mingle wetly and passionately together. He cupped the side of her face gently as she traced her fingers gingerly up his back, gripping the collar of his shirt to pull it off of his shoulders, their lips never disconnecting as they worked together in an effort to rid him of the white button down. Brennan was the first to pull her lips away from his, simply moving them to kiss his ear intimately.

"Bones," he groaned in a breathy tone, tightening his grip on her hair.

"Sh, sh, sh," she hushed him playfully, blowing teasingly into his ear, "quiet."

"Temptress," he groaned playfully, moving her other bra strap down her shoulder as well, "a little temptress is what you are."

"I accept that as a compliment," she smiled, her lips moving slowly down to his neck once more, before he grabbed her face gently to crush their lips back together.

Brennan was slipping her hands down his chest and to the belt buckle that was pressing uncomfortably into her hip, until she heard the last sound that either of them wanted to hear at the moment, a soft tapping on the door.

"I should get dressed and open the door," Booth breathed, pulling his lips from hers.

When he started to get up, Brennan simply gripped his shoulder with her free hand to prevent any sudden movement, hushing him gently, her breathing erratic and her hair tangled and sprawled across the pillow.

"Shh," she hushed him, kissing his cheek with her kiss-swollen lips, continuing to work on his belt buckle with just one hand, "pretend it's the wind."

"What if he needs something?" He went to move again, only to be pulled back down.

"He'll get it himself," Brennan insisted, kissing her partner's lips once more.

"I can't just ignore my son," he mumbled against her lips, "as tempting as it is."

Brennan simply laughed, moaning softly when his tongue probed into her mouth, doing exactly what he said he couldn't, by ignoring the knock on the door and resuming his sensual kiss with his partner. It was only a few seconds before the tapping started again. Brennan traced her fingers gently over Booth's shoulder blade, hoping that was enough to distract him from hearing the knock on the door.

"Dad?" The sound of the door being nudged a crack open startled both of them.

They both froze, exchanging glances between each other.

"What, bud?" Booth asked, silently thanking God that the lights were off, so his son didn't see his father and his girlfriend half undressed, making out on his bed.

"Can I have a glass of water?"

Right then, Booth wanted to just shut the door and continue what they started, but he couldn't seem to move at that exact moment, since Parker had startled him frozen.

"You know where the cups are," Booth told him, glancing at Brennan, who was just staring at him with wide eyes.

"I want you to get it," he insisted.

Booth let out a long sigh, finally shifting his weight off of his forearms to turn over onto his back, brushing a hand through his hair.

"Alright go into the kitchen, I'll be right there," he said, doing his best to cover up the annoyance in his voice.

He waited until he could hear his son's little feet making their way down the hallway before he buttoned his pants back up and worked to redo his belt.

"This was a terrible idea," he concluded, sitting up straight once his pants were back where they were supposed to be.

"I don't see what's so terrible about it," Brennan shrugged sitting up as well, reaching to the floor to get his shirt for him, "go get him a glass of water, tuck him in, come back, and we'll pick up where we left off."

"Absolutely not," he laughed bitterly, pulling the shirt back over his shoulders, looking over at her to see the look of confusion on her face.

"Why not?" Brennan asked innocently.

"My son just walked in on us!" He laughed, even though, in reality, he was a little annoyed at himself for suggesting they make love with his son in the house, since he knew something like that was possible.

"He didn't see anything," she insisted, "Booth, you can't just get me all aroused and then say 'never mind'. Parker already knows what it is anyway."

"I don't need him to be traumatized by seeing his dad and his girlfriend doing, that," he was slightly flustered when he spoke, "and I sure as hell don't need him telling Rebecca what he caught daddy doing."

Brennan groaned in frustration and ran her hands through her hair.

"You're a pain in the ass," she groaned.

"I'm sorry," he laughed softly, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

Brennan simply whined.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Go get your son a glass of water," she responded to his apology, pushing gently on his shoulder to urge him out of bed.

Booth looked over his shoulder at her, smiling apologetically before he went to meet Parker in the kitchen. Brennan huffed in frustration before she slid out of bed to find something to sleep in. Even though she couldn't blame him for not wanting his son to catch them, she couldn't help but to be annoyed with the whole situation. She'd been stressed out from Max's heart attack all day, and figured the least Booth could do was comfort her. But, obviously, that wasn't going to happen now. Even if he had changed his mind and still wanted to do it, the mood was completely ruined.

After she changed, Brennan pulled the blanket back and slipped into bed, pulling the covers up over her shoulders as she laid on her back, staring at the ceiling. She wasn't necessarily looking forward to staying at Max's, but it was something that had to be done. If she had to choose between not having a father anymore, or spending a few days away from Booth, she knew she'd have to choose her father.

After about fifteen minutes, the door opened and clicked shut again. Brennan winced slightly when Booth turned the lamp on, joining her under the covers. She ignored him for the first few seconds, still annoyed that he had lead her on, only to have her mind changed when he kissed her tenderly on the cheek.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear, brushing a hand through her hair.

Brennan turned to look at her partner, blue eyes meeting brown.

"It's fine," she finally let him know she was willing to forgive.

"Thank you," he kissed her cheek again.

"For what?"

"For forgiving me."

"It would be immature of me not to forgive you."

Booth chuckled and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"One night's not a big deal, right?" Booth asked.

"No, it's not," Brennan admitted, smiling softly, "not when we have so many nights ahead of us to spend together."

Booth looked at her curiously for a minute, Brennan's expression changing to one of confusion as well when she saw the way he stared at her as if she had just confessed to murder.

"Are you asking me to marry you?" He asked, in disbelief.

"What?" Brennan was caught off guard by his question, her cheeks flushing as she stammered over her words, "No! Of course not!"

"I'm sorry," Booth was stuttering as well by this point, feeling like an idiot for even considering that, "I just, my head was somewhere else."

"Obviously."

"I'm so sorry, Bones. That was a dumb question. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, it's just, today I was talking to Parker, and he was asking me when we were going to get married, so it was just, on my mind. Not that I was planning on asking you or anything."

Brennan looked at him with another confused expression.

"Parker asked you when we were going to get married?" She asked.

"Well I don't remember his exact words, but he was all asking me about marriage and stuff, so I was just, thinking about it."

"Well I'm only asking because he asked me about marriage as well," Brennan filled him in.

Booth had to laugh at how his son was trying to play them.

"I guess he wants us to get married," he laughed.

"Or he was just curious," Brennan suggested, "did he ask you about children too?"

"Yes, he told me to ask you to get pregnant," he laughed again, "I said no."

"He asked me if I wanted children, I told him not yet."

"Good answer."

"Thank you."

Brennan leaned her head back against her partner's chest, letting out a soft sigh.

"Have I mentioned that I love you today?" Booth asked, running his fingers affectionately through her hair.

"Not today," she told him, "but I know, regardless of whether you say it."

"And?" He asked, waiting for her response.

Brennan rolled her eyes at his need for confirmation.

"And I love you too."

"Perfect," he smiled, kissing her forehead softly, "now go to sleep. You had a long day."

"I'm perfectly awake," she said, even though she was feeling a little drowsy.

Booth simply hushed her, stroking her hair in an effort to relax her as she cuddled into his chest. Even all these months later, it still surprised him that his Bones was a cuddler. Before they initiated a relationship, he would have bet money that she was one of those women who turned onto her side and cuddled up with her pillow, rather than the man next to her. But she sure wasn't shy about what she wanted, and what she wanted was to be held.

"Booth?" She asked, breaking the long silence with her sleepy voice.

"Mhm?"

"Can you say it one more time before I fall asleep?"

Booth smiled and kissed her head again.

"I love you, Temperance Brennan," he whispered in her ear, just before she fell into a peaceful sleep.


	76. When You're Happy, I'm Happy

**A/N: Thank you all for the feedback, as usual. =] I'm glad you're all patient, because I know I haven't been updating as much lately, but it's just been a little hard to find the time. I'm sure you guys understand though, or at least I hope. xD So this one's a bit of a filler, but at least it's something. =]**

Chapter Seventy-Six:

"When You're Happy, I'm Happy"

Booth was woken up the next morning by the sound of things being clanked together and sorted through. He opened one eye, seeing Brennan gathering her things, trying to be as quiet as possible, but failing miserably.

"Bones, it's five thirty in the morning, what are you doing?" He groaned, pressing the outside of his arm to his forehead as he closed his eyes once more.

"I'm sorry, I was trying not to wake you up," she whispered, still trying to be quiet, even though she knew he was awake by that point, "I have to go pick up my father from the hospital soon, so I'm packing my things now. You can go back to sleep."

Booth removed his arm from over his eyes and sat up straight, rubbing his tired eyes with the back of his hand.

"A little late for that now," he said.

Brennan looked at him apologetically as she zipped up her duffle bag.

"I was being as quiet as possible," she told him, glancing down at her packed up duffle bag, grateful that she never finished unpacking, since it just made it that much easier to pack up to stay at her father's, "it looks like I'm leaving you."

"Not funny," he mumbled sleepily.

"I didn't say I _was_ leaving you, I said it looks like," she pointed out, rolling her eyes, "I always forget, you're snippy in the morning."

"I'm not _snippy_," he put emphasis on that word that he hated so very much, "I'm just tired."

"Well you should be a little nicer, I'm leaving at eight."

"So you woke up at five thirty?" He questioned her, "you are aware that you've already finished packing, and now you have two and a half hours to spare."

"I wanted to finish packing early so I didn't have to rush and I could get some extra sleep before I have to leave," she informed him, making her way back to her side of her bed.

"I always knew you were a genius," Booth smiled, pulling the covers back for her.

Brennan mumbled something inaudible as she snuggled back under her partner's arm, sighing in contentment as she stroked his fabric covered torso absentmindedly.

"You know what I'll miss the most when you're gone?" Booth asked, feeling around for her hand, grasping it when he found it and lacing their fingers together.

"Cuddling? Waking up together?" She took a couple guesses, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"I was actually going to say the sex," he half joked with her, "but that other stuff is nice too."

"Mmm," Brennan laughed lightly, tucking her head into his chest, "that too."

They laid in silence for a few seconds, just looking at the ceiling, until Booth broke the silence.

"Hey, Bones?" He asked, receiving a small noise in response, "Did you find out anything about Villeda's murder yet? Because, to be honest, I'm kind of looking forward to being off the suspect list."

"You're actually a very likely suspect, Booth, especially now that it came out that Villeda's murderer was an excellent shot and was, without a doubt, professionally trained," she said.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He asked, turning his head to look at her seriously, "you don't honestly think it was me, do you?"

"I think it's possible that it was you," she told him honestly.

"Thank you for finally saying it," he said, being completely serious.

"I'm fairly certain we had this discussion already."

"We did, but you never actually said the words."

Brennan sighed and closed her eyes in frustration.

"I don't think it was you," she sighed,"I just, wouldn't be overly surprised if it was."

"Yeah, thanks a million, Bones."

"Booth..."

"No, don't explain yourself, Temperance, just let it go."

Brennan winced slightly when he used her first name, knowing that was an indication that he was annoyed. She bit her lip to keep from spouting something out that would just make the whole situation twenty times more awkward than it already was, but she felt bad, knowing that she had crossed a line. He hated killing people, and he hated himself for taking so many lives. Brennan knew that, and she tried to just push it out of her thoughts, but in the back of her mind, it always came back to remind her. Did she think Booth was a killer? No. But did she think he was capable of killing someone who hurt her or anyone else he cared for? Absolutely.

"Can I call you if I get lonely at Max's?" She asked, attempting to change the subject.

"Of course," he responded, dropping the Villeda issue, since he knew being angry with her wouldn't get them anywhere, "what are you doing about work anyway?"

"Cam gave me a couple days off," she told him, draping her arm across his stomach to hold him close, knowing they were only one wrong word away from fighting, since he was still a little on edge from the whole killer slip, "she understands the circumstances."

"I figured she would," Booth shrugged, tightening his arm around her shoulder, silently showing her that he had let the whole incident go, "did I say good morning yet?"

"No, you snapped at me when you woke up," she laughed, "jerk."

"Yeah, that's guys like me for ya'," he joked, suddenly recalling the argument they had in the car a few months ago about 'guys like him'.

"Yeah you're right. Guys like you are such philistines," she shook her head playfully, rolling her eyes, "but that's right, you're not a philistine. You're Catholic."

"Hey, hey, how about we cut back on the making fun of me, Doctor Burn-In-Hell."

Brennan rolled her eyes.

"That doesn't work anymore, because you already told me you don't think I'm going to Hell," she smiled proudly.

Booth rolled his eyes light heartedly.

"Didn't you say you wanted to go back to sleep?"

"As a matter of fact I did," she said, "I'm going to do that now."

"Okay," Booth laughed, kissing the top of her head, "you do that."

* * *

Brennan was on Max's couch, her computer in her lap as he flipped through the channels on the television in an attempt to find something that would entertain him. When he failed to find anything of interest, he simply turned the set off, setting the remote back on the coffee table. Brennan glanced up at the television for a split second when the sound of the power cutting off startled her from what she was doing.

"Tempe," Max grabbed her attention from her email, "anything you want to talk about?"

"No," Brennan shrugged, closing her laptop when she noticed that her father wanted to engage in conversation, "but if there's something you want to discuss I'll gladly take part."

"Nothing in particular," Max shrugged as well, "except those damn nurses. I'm telling you now, I hope I never have to go back to the hospital. They tried to take me out in a wheelchair. A wheelchair! I'm perfectly capable of walking. I just had a simple heart attack, that's all."

"You say that like heart disease is such a minor thing," Brennan's voice was slightly more concerned when he took it so lightly, "it could happen again, dad."

"Unless I change my diet, I know," he brushed off her suggestion, "and I will."

"The reason you went into cardiac arrest was because you had high cholesterol," she explained, "there are a few foods that are known to lower cholesterol, or you could start taking medication, but I'd just suggest a healthier diet and a more vigorous work out routine."

"Tempe, you're making this a bigger deal than it needs to be."

"I lost you for fifteen years, dad," Brennan glanced down in embarrassment when she saw the look of horror wash over his face after the words slipped from her mouth, "it was unpleasant."

"I'm sorry, honey," he said, ashamedly.

"Don't apologize," she muttered, feeling foolish for even bringing it up, "rationally, when you die, I should be able to cope and move on. But that doesn't mean I _want_ you to die."

Max looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"Thank you?" He said, unsure how to respond to that.

"You're welcome," she responded, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly.

Max took a long pause before he asked the dreaded question.

"What about when your mother died? Could you 'cope and move on' then?"

Brennan tensed up at the mention of her mother's death. Even though she was able to move on, it was still something she didn't like talking about. Every once in a while, someone would make her visit her mother's grave, either Booth or Angela, and she hated it. For one thing, it made her feel foolish when she talked to a headstone, but the other reason she hated it was because she didn't like to think that, that was what her mother had become. Just a plot of dirt and a tomb stone.

"It took some time," she admitted, "but I was able to handle it," she paused, tugging uncomfortably at the bottom of her blouse, "how about we talk about something more stimulating?"

"Okay," Max agreed, wanting to get off the subject of his deceased wife just as much as she did, "how about we talk about you and Booth? You don't really talk about that very much."

"Because it's nobody's business," she told him, honestly, "but if you really want to know about Booth and I's relationship I guess I could share some information."

"Sweetheart, you make it sound like some sort of experiment," he laughed lightly, "if you don't want to talk about it you don't have to."

"I, would rather not talk about it," she said, honestly.

She wasn't trying to be secretive, she just liked what was going on between she and Booth to just be between them. Even though she was skeptical about keeping their relationship a secret when they first initiated it, she liked keeping it personal. Even Angela, who knew from the beginning, only had a limited amount of information on what was actually going on.

"Okay, that's fine," he assured her, "but I just want to say, before you change the subject completely, that I'm happy for you."

Brennan cocked her head slightly to the side in confusion.

"Why?" She asked obliviously.

"Because you're happy," he smiled at her, "when you're happy, I'm happy. Besides, I've always liked Booth. I've always known that he was that one man you'd finally give yourself too. And I know just getting your approval is a task in itself."

"That's not entirely true," she defended, "I didn't give _you_ my approval because you abandon me when I was fifteen and killed a man."

"I know, I know, I'm flawed."

"Flawed is an understatement, Max. You've killed people."

"So has your boyfriend," he pointed out, "so have _you_."

"In self defense," she reminded him, "which is completely different from what you did."

"There were people threatening you and your brother. I did what I had to do, Temperance. I don't let people hurt my children."

Brennan simply opened her laptop back up, not wanting to have this conversation at the moment. Max was about to speak again, try to make things a little less awkward between them, but wasn't able to get a word out before Brennan's phone began to ring. She quickly stood up and made her way into the guest room, where she had put her things and was going to be staying for the next few days, opening answering her phone and pressing it to her ear.

"Brennan."

"Bren, do you have a minute?" Angela's voice came through the receiver, sounding distressed.

"I have much more than a minute," she responded, taking a seat on the bed.

There was a short pause between them before Angela spoke again.

"Have you ever just, had a bad feeling about something?" She asked, even though she knew it was likely that her question was going to send Brennan on an anthropological rant, "Like, deep inside, you just know something's wrong? Relationship wise?"

"No," Brennan answered simply, seeing that something was upsetting her, "although, I'm probably not the best person to be asking about relationships."

"Well you have a successful relationship with Booth," Angela reminded her.

"So far," Brennan pointed out.

"Do you think you would know if he was cheating on you?"

Brennan paused, taking a moment to think about it.

"You think Booth is cheating on me?" She asked, obliviously.

"No, sweetie," she sighed at how clueless she could be, "I think Hodgins is cheating on _me_."

"Oh," Brennan was slightly taken back by her statement, "what made you come to that conclusion? Was it Sweets? Because I know he has a tendency to think people are cheating when they aren't."

"No, it wasn't Sweets," Angela laughed half heartedly, "Hodgins has just been, acting weird lately. He's being really secretive."

"How so?" Brennan asked.

"He came home late the other night," she said, as if that were an obvious reason to suspect cheating, "and the other day, he said he had to go get something from the store, and he came back empty handed."

"Oh, that seems a little suspicious to me," Brennan admitted, "but again, I'm not really the right person to judge that kind of thing."

"What should I do?" Angela asked, "if he's cheating, I have to break up with him as soon as possible. I won't let myself be his afternoon delight while he's getting some from hottie down the street when he pretends he's going to the store."

"I have no idea what you just said," Brennan admitted, "but I think you should be open about it. Ask him. And I have trouble seeing why it would bother you so much if he was seeing other women."

"You're serious."

"You're the one he comes home to at night, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, I guess."

"Then if he needs to seek out physical pleasure elsewhere during the day, I don't see what the big deal is. As long as he's still committed to you what does it matter?"

Angela was silent, completely baffled by her friend's logic.

"Take a minute to think this over logically," Angela tried her best to get through to her, "compare my situation to yours. What if Booth was cheating on you?"

"He wouldn't," Brennan responded simply, "he's never cheated on a woman."

"Let's just say, for the sake of the argument, he was? Wouldn't you be upset?"

"Yes, but that's different."

"How so?"

"I love Booth."

Angela huffed in frustration.

"And I love Hodgins."

Brennan was the one to be confused now, running her fingers through her hair.

"I thought you said you and Hodgins were just running on sex and laughing?"

"Brennan, honey, that was a long time ago. We fell in love."

"Well if you're in love I don't see why he would be sleeping with other women," Brennan concluded, as if it were that simple, "correct me if I'm wrong, but if he really loved you, he would want to have a monogamous relationship. So the answer is simple. He either isn't cheating, or he doesn't deserve to have your commitment," she paused, thinking it over, "would you like me to hit him for you if he is? I hear my slaps are effective."

Angela simply laughed lightly.

"Thanks, Bren," she said, honestly.

"For what?" Brennan asked.

"For making me laugh," Angela sounded genuinely happier, "you're like the sister I never had, minus the hair pulling and the fighting over dolls."

Brennan smiled as well, feeling a sense of pride for making her friend feel better.

"You're welcome," Brennan was happy to make her happy, "even though it's hypothetical sisterhood, you do whatever you can for family," she paused at the sound of her own words, feeling as if something finally clicked in her head, "I, have to go."

"Why?" Angela asked, taken back by her sudden rush to get off the phone.

"I have to call Booth."

Angela laughed.

"You miss him that much already?"

"No," Brennan rolled her eyes, not wanting to be portrayed as a sappy hopeless romantic, "I think my father killed Miguel Villeda."


	77. Don't Be a Fool

**A/N: I'm seriously so sorry that I left you all hanging for such a long time. I was working on my other story, and then my month got pretty hectic, so I haven't really had time to update anything lately. But honestly, I feel as if I can't apologize enough. And, I also feel bad because this chapter's basically a filler, but I won't take so long to update the next chapter. xD **

**Also, apologizing for any mistakes in advanced, because I didn't have time to edit thoroughly, since I'm trying to get to bed at a semi-decent hour. And of course, thank you all for being so patient. **

Chapter Seventy-Seven:

"Don't Be A Fool"

Brennan held the phone up to her ear, seated on the edge of the bed as she plucked nervously at the comforter laid out on the bed, waiting for Booth to answer his phone. She groaned in frustration when she heard his voicemail answer for him, the cheerful voice on the other end of the phone seeming to almost mock her situation.

"Booth, it's Bones, I have something I have to share with you, so please call me back as soon as possible."

Brennan tugged nervously at the bottom of her shirt, forcing herself to stay calm. She loved her father, and she wouldn't love him any less if she found out he killed yet another man, but she didn't want him going to jail. That was when she decided maybe it was best if she didn't tell Booth. If she did, he would be obligated to look into it. Maybe this was one of those things that was better left unsaid.

"Tempe? You alright in there?" She heard Max call from the other room.

"Yes, I was just, talking to Angela," she said.

"If you speak to Booth tell him to come over for dinner," Max called to her, "I'm making baked ziti."

"You shouldn't be making anything, dad," Brennan shoved her phone back into her pocket, stepping back out to meet him in the kitchen, "let me do it."

"No way you can make baked ziti as good as I can," he smiled confidently.

"I'm an exceptional cook," Brennan smiled back, "and Booth wouldn't be able to come. He has Parker for the weekend."

"Oh, tell him to bring the kid with him," Max shrugged, as he got some of the ingredients he needed out of the refrigerator, "we can have a nice family meal."

"Booth and I are not a family," she said quickly, "we're just seeing each other, that's all."

"You might as well be married, you spend all your time together, and you fight like a married couple. Why don't you two tie the knot?"

"Because marriage is a petty ritual and merely a piece of paper," she said, with a shrug of her shoulders, "Booth isn't pressuring me to get married, and I appreciate that. He's willing to just be together. We don't need a piece of paper to prove our commitment."

"Well you feel strongly about this," Max observed, a little taken back by her strong opinion on the subject, "you know, if your mother and I never got married you probably wouldn't exist."

"Maybe Booth and I will have children," she shrugged, "we don't need to be married for that. There's no rule saying we must have a legal marriage to have children."

"So you two are going to have kids, and live together, and spend your life together, if everything goes as planned, but, you're never going to get married?"

"No, we're not."

Brennan looked at her father curiously, wondering why he found this so strange. To her, this was the perfect arrangement, and she didn't understand why everyone found it so strange. Even Parker, who was just a kid, found it to be abnormal.

"I don't understand why everyone is so surprised by this," she commented, "we seem to be doing fine right now without a piece of paper."

"Well what about the legal crap that goes along with marriage?" Max asked, "like, God forbid, Booth has an accident. Don't you want to be able to make the medical decisions that you know he would want."

"You mean would I like to pull the plug on the man I love?" She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling slightly tense when her father brought up the possibility of a tragedy like that, "I don't know what he would want, only he knows that. I wouldn't want to make a decision based off of what I think, and then wind up killing him when that wasn't what he wanted. And besides, he probably has a will."

Max huffed quietly at how difficult his daughter could be.

"Well that's only one thing," he reminded her, "what about the rest of it?"

"I think we'll be able to manage," Brennan rolled her eyes, feeling as if he were being pushy now, "if there's ever a time where we both feel we would need the legal benefits of marriage, then maybe we would reconsider."

"I just think you shouldn't completely rule it out, that's all," Max said, "marriage is a beautiful thing, Tempe. The day I married your mother was one of the greatest days of my life."

"If Booth and I ever get married, it will be just like any other day," she told him, as if she knew this for a fact, "we'll be the same Booth and Brennan, only legally joined."

"Okay, Tempe, whatever you say," Max stopped the conversation, giving up on trying to reason with her.

Brennan rolled her eyes, knowing that he was just saying what he had to say in order to bring the conversation to a close, and was about to respond before her cell phone started to ring again. When she saw the name on the caller ID, she panicked. She'd called Booth before, telling him she had something important to tell him, meaning her suspicions of her father, but now, she wasn't sure if she wanted to tell him. He was an FBI agent, and he'd be faced with the choice of either ratting her father out to the bureau and arresting him, or, breaking the law by pretending he didn't know anything.

"Brennan," she picked up her phone, walking away from her father, her voice sounding unsure.

"Hi," her partner chirped through the other end of the phone, "I got your message. Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine," she assured him.

There was a short pause on the other end of the line.

"But, you said you had something important to tell me," he reminded her.

"What?" Brennan asked, playing the confusion card well, "Oh, I don't even remember what that was about. It probably wasn't as important as I thought it was at the moment."

"Are you sure?" Booth asked, "because, if there's really something you need to tell me, don't hesitate. I'm here. Well, not at your dad's house in person, but you know what I mean."

"No, there's absolutely nothing going on worth telling you about," she lied, "I'm just, sitting here with my dad, trying to make sure he doesn't overexert himself. Speaking of which, he would like you and Parker to come over for dinner once you're finished at work. He's making baked ziti. But you don't have to come if you don't want to, I know it's raining and you probably don't want to drive all the way here with Parker in the car in the bad weather."

"No, of course I'll come, are you kidding me?" Brennan was silently disappointed when he agreed so easily to going to her dad's. Now she knew she'd never hear the end of all the marriage questions, between her father and Parker, "Who am I to pass up free baked ziti?"

"Booth, don't feel obligated. I know the weather is not good today."

"It's just rain, Bones."

"Tempe, stop trying to convince him not to come," Brennan heard her father call from the kitchen.

"I guess you're busted," Booth laughed, "don't worry, I'll keep the little guy in line."

"Don't let him buddy up too much to my father, or we'll be walking down the isle in a church saying 'I do' faster than you think," she only half joked.

"I think you're forgetting that I don't mind the whole walking down the isle saying 'I do' thing. That's you."

Brennan was quite, feeling slightly uncomfortable all of the sudden.

"Okay, so, I'll see you later?" She changed the subject in a less than smooth transition.

"Yeah, we'll come a little later. I think I can finish up here by eight."

"Great," she smiled, even though he couldn't see her, "I'll see you then."

* * *

Brennan was in the guest room with her laptop, her fingers tapping away at the keys as she worked on her novel. She'd insisted on making the baked ziti, but just as strong as she'd been insisting, her father had been assuring her that he was okay, and he could do it. So she decided to let him have his way. She wasn't necessarily in the mood to cook anyway.

"Tempe," she heard her father call from the other room, causing her to loose her train of thought, "can you get the door? I think your boyfriend's here."

Brennan groaned when her father used the word 'boyfriend', the one she hated so very much, not because it was a monogamous label, but because it just sounded so juvenile, and saved her progress before closing her laptop. She made her way to the door and opened it, smiling when she saw her partner standing outside.

"Hi," he smiled, holding out a bag to her, "I brought dessert."

"Booth, you know my father can't eat dessert," she reminded him, taking the bag from his hand anyway, "he needs to mind his diet," she peeked behind the broad man to see his son standing behind him, "hi Parker."

"Hi, Bones!" He exclaimed, stepping out from behind his father to reveal himself, "I got to go to dad's job today, but he was in a bad mood before. He even yelled at Doctor Sweets."

Brennan glanced at her partner questioningly, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"He was, getting on my nerves," Booth straightened his tie awkwardly, "he came into my office and started talking and stuff. Then he was asking how things were between us, and I just kind of, told him to go away."

"Why?" Brennan asked.

"Because it's none of his business how things are between us," he reminded him, glancing at Parker, who was looking up at him, intently listening to their conversation, "Parker, go into the kitchen and say hello to Bones' dad."

Parker nodded and made his way to the kitchen as his father asked. When he was gone, Booth wasted no time before cupping his girlfriend's face gently between his palms and pulling her lips gently to his to give her a soft kiss on the lips. When their mouth's disconnected, Brennan simply smiled at him, enjoying the feeling of his thumb gently tracing over her jawbone.

"Hi," she laughed awkwardly, looking up into his eyes.

"Hiya, Bones," he smiled back, kissing her cheek tenderly, "you miss me yet?"

"A little," she admitted, "it's more a matter of me having nothing to do here than missing you. And I don't mean that in a bad way, it's just only been a day since I last saw you, so I haven't really had time to miss you yet."

"You have nothing to do here," he pondered over her words, "as opposed to home, where you can do..."

"You," she finished for him, smiling mischievously, silently proud of her flirtatious words, "although that particular thing has been difficult to do since Parker came."

"Baby," Booth groaned, moving his hands from her face to her shoulders to clasp them gently, "you really can't say things like that when we're in your father's house. It's completely wrong to think about those things in front of your dad."

"You're being irrational," she told him, reaching up to touch his cheek with the tips of her fingers, "I for one, have been thinking about things like that a lot in my father's house. I haven't burned yet. It's normal to fantasize when you're-"

"Sh," Booth hushed her, pressing a finger to her lips, taking a quick glance around the room, "enough."

"What, are you afraid God will smite you?" She teased.

"Or that Parker and your father will hear."

"Parker I understand, my father, not so much," Brennan told him, with a shrug of her shoulders, "I'm certain he knows what we do."

"I'm sure he knows, but I don't think he wants any confirmation," he reminded her, letting go of her shoulders, "and speaking of your father, I should go say hello."

"Wait," Brennan grasped his forearm before he could go any further, causing him to turn around and look at her, "just, promise me you won't listen to my father if he starts with his crap. Please, just ignore him. For me."

"What the hell are you talking about? What 'crap'?"

"He's going to start pumping you," she warned, "he's going to ask you about marriage, and children, and everything else that 'normal' people in a 'normal' relationship would consider, and I just don't want it to make you uncomfortable."

"It won't make me uncomfortable," he had to laugh at her concern, "trust me, baby, if anyone's going to get uncomfortable, it'll be you."

"Okay, that's the second time you've called me baby since you got here. I was willing to let it go as a slip of the tongue the first time, but now I'm coming to realize that it's intentional."

"Oh, intentional?" He laughed, "It's not intentional, Bones. I don't just walk around purposely trying to get under your skin. Well, not all the time at least."

"See that? You're such a-"

"Booth, Tempe," the sound of Max's voice cut Brennan off mid sentence, "bickering again I see."

"Hey, Max," Booth smiled politely, holding out his hand for him to shake, "how you feeling?"

"I'm feeling fine," he assured him, "which is apparently difficult for Temperance to understand."

Brennan rolled her eyes when her father made his snide comment. All she was trying to do was help, and he seemed to be completely ungrateful, which bothered her just a bit.

"So," Max spoke again when the room remained silent, "dinner's ready if you two want to come eat."

"Great, come on, Bones."

The three adults and single child ate in silence for the first few minutes of dinner, all much too focused on their food to strike up conversation at the moment, apparently all much more hungry than they thought they were. It was about five minutes into dinner before Parker finally spoke the first words, his voice disrupting the silence that had come over them.

"Hey, Bones, when are you coming back to my dad's house?" He asked, taking a bite of baked ziti that could barely fit into his mouth.

"In a few days," Brennan told him, glancing over at her partner, as if she were looking for some sort of confirmation, "to be honest, Parker, by the time I come back you'll probably be back with your mother."

The little boy frowned, taking a sip of water from his cup before he spoke again.

"Aw," he pouted, "I wanted me and you and dad to do something."

"Well this isn't going to be the last time you'll be with me, bud," Booth reminded him, "I know you like Bones and all, but she needs to stay with her dad right now."

"Why?" The little boy asked.

"He went into cardiac arrest and I'm staying to make sure it doesn't happen again," Brennan explained, seeing Max shake his head out of the corner of her eye, "although, he is under the impression that he can take care of himself, which he clearly can't. Not that there's anything wrong with him, but heart attack patients tend to take cardiac arrest too lightly."

"You know, sweetheart, you don't have to talk about me as if I'm not sitting three feet away," he reminded her.

"I'm not saying anything that should offend you," she told him.

It was quiet again, the only sound being that of forks clicking against plates.

"Dad and I almost got into a car accident on the way here," Parker shared.

Brennan looked over at her partner, arching an eyebrow in confusion.

"Your father, failed to share that with me when we were talking before."

"We didn't 'almost' get into a car accident," Booth rolled his eyes, "Parker's just spinning off into another crazy story. We were driving here, and the SUV slipped, briefly, you know, 'cause of all the rain. But it wasn't a big deal at all."

"Are you guys okay?" Brennan asked.

"Bones, I just said, nothing happened. You could barely even feel the slip."

"I felt it," Parker pointed out, "and you seemed a little scared at first."

"Hey, I was not scared. I just wanted to make sure _you_ were okay."

"If the weather is that bad, maybe you two should just stay here tonight," Max suggested thoughtfully, "wouldn't want to risk anything."

"No, we couldn't" Booth was grateful for the suggestion, but didn't want to impose "I mean, there's not enough room."

"Sure there is. I can pull out the couch for Parker, and you can stay with Tempe, as long as you two behave."

Brennan felt her cheeks warm up in embarrassment, glancing at her partner.

"My father's right, Booth," she said, looking at him seriously, "if it's too dangerous to drive the logical choice would be to stay the night. Although, I would have to pull out the couch, since my father should not be doing any heavy lifting."

"Bones, I really wouldn't want to be a burden on your father, especially when he's still recovering from a heart attack."

"You won't be imposing," she promised, looking at him with sincere concern in her bright blue eyes, the kind she knew would convince him to listen to her, "it's for safety purposes, that's all. We just want to make sure you and Parker are safe."

"Bones..."

"Booth, please. Don't be a fool."

Booth looked around, feeling slightly uncomfortable staying at Brennan's father's house, feeling like he was overstaying his welcome. But then again, Max was the one who offered, and he knew it wasn't really worth the risk of getting into a car accident, especially with his son in the car.

"We don't have clothes," he reminded her.

"I took one of your t-shirts," Brennan admitted, "you can wear that."

"Come on, Booth, I was gonna teach Parker how to play marbles anyway," Max nudged the little boy, who he'd apparently taken to, with his elbow in a friendly gesture.

"Yeah, dad, I promise I'll go to bed early," Parker pled.

Booth had to chuckle lightly at how anxious Parker was to spend the night with Brennan and Max, glad that he was responding so well to the people who were very likely to become a big part of his life.

"Alright," Booth caved, half smiling at Brennan when he spoke, "sleepover at Max's."


	78. Sometimes I Feel Like It's My Fault

**A/N: See? I told you it wouldn't take me another month to update. xD So enjoy, even though some of you might kill me by the end of this chapter.**

**And of course, as usual, thank you all for your feedback. =]**

Chapter Seventy-Eight:

"Sometimes I Feel Like It's My Fault"

Brennan was sitting between her partner's legs, her back resting against his chest while her head lolled back onto his shoulder, watching her father teach Parker how to play marbles from the next room through the doorway. They were set up in the kitchen, because, with all the furniture, there wasn't enough room in the living room.

"Why are we on the floor?" Brennan asked, "You really should have some sort of cushion for your back."

"I have the front of the couch," he reminded her, honestly unsure as to why they were sitting against the couch instead of on it, "and I guess because we can't sit like this on the couch."

"I'm sure we'd find another way to sit," she turned her gaze to look up at him, "but I'm not going to argue with you about it."

Booth looked at her with a confused expression, subconsciously smiling the charm smile.

"Are you feeling okay?" He asked playfully.

"I feel fine," she said, not picking up on his sarcastic tone, "why? Do I look sick?"

"No, it's just, you said you _don't_ want to argue with me."

Brennan laughed and slapped his arm playfully.

"Don't be a jerk."

"Not sure if that's possible," he joked, kissing her temple when she turned back to watch her father and Parker, "he looks like he's enjoying himself."

Brennan nodded in agreement, smiling when he buried his nose in her hair.

"Do you think he likes him?" She asked.

"Yes," Booth responded honestly, as she tilted her head to look up at him again, "I think Booths and Brennans are just programed to like each other."

"That, doesn't make sense," Brennan told him, shaking her head at his theory, "genetics have nothing to do with whether you like someone or not," she watched him as he shook his head and laughed, looking up to the ceiling, "Oh!" She laughed as well, "You're joking."

Booth nodded, a smile on his face.

"That's funny," she commented, her eyes sparkling at him.

"I'm a funny guy."

Brennan smiled when he leaned down to capture her lips in a tender kiss, twisting herself around so she could cup the side of his face while they kissed. Normally, she would have figured he'd object to kissing in front of her father, but she assumed he didn't mind because he wasn't paying attention anyway. He was too focused on what he was doing with Parker.

"We should start drinking," she suggested, once their lips separated, "you don't have to drive, so it won't matter."

"You are so odd," he had to laugh at his partner, "and I think you're becoming an alcoholic."

"Just because I want to drink with my partner?" She asked.

"Because you want to drink for no reason, at your father's house, with my son here."

"You've never drank in front of Parker before?"

"Well, I don't want to be a bad influence."

"Oh, Booth, we're adults. Two adults having a few drinks is completely innocent."

Booth gave her a look, knowing that she was up to something.

"Why are you trying to get me drunk?" He asked, smiling as he gave her a curious look.

"So maybe, you'll consider making love to me tonight," she admitted, a small blush rising on her cheeks when she informed him of her intentions, "I know you never would completely sober. I assumed if you had a few drinks in you your judgement would be hazy."

"Bones, not in your father's house," he told her, making it very clear that it was out of the question, "he's being generous enough to let me stay here. I'm not going to just completely disrespect him by having sex with his daughter in his own house."

"He won't even know, as long as we're quiet," she told him.

"It's not a matter of him knowing or not knowing, it's a matter of respect."

Brennan rolled her eyes. She usually loved the fact that he was a gentleman, but at times like these, it was beyond irritating.

"Come on, Bones, it's only a few days until you come back," he reminded her, kissing the spot under her ear softly, causing her to instinctively tilt her head to the side, "and think of it this way. The longer we wait, the better it'll be when you get back."

"That isn't necessarily true," she mumbled, peeking up at him quickly.

"Jeez, if I kiss you will you stop complaining?" He asked.

"It's possible," she teased, looking up at him with a half smile on her face, "I suggest you try it and see what happens."

Booth laughed lightly and leaned down to kiss her, keeping it fairly soft and inhibited. Brennan, not satisfied with the gentleness of the kiss, urged his lips apart with hers, letting her tongue sneak into his mouth when he finally granted her access.

"Hey," the sound of Max's voice startled both of them, causing them to jerk away from each other, "let's try and keep it PG, okay?" Brennan blushed as her father laughed, making it clear that he was only trying to embarrass them. "And if you can't control yourselves, at least get a room. Parker and I are trying to have some wholesome fun. We don't need it to be polluted by your X-rated crap."

* * *

"Did Parker have fun playing marbles with my dad?" Brennan asked, allowing her partner to take her hand and lace their fingers together, letting their entangled hands rest against his stomach.

"Sure," Booth said, stroking her hair gently when her head propped itself against his shoulder with his free hand, "I already told you he looked like he was. Why do you keep asking me that?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "I guess I just, really want him to like my family and I, that's all. And I know you do too, because, if he doesn't, that would present a problem."

"He loves you, Bones," Booth told her, "he talks about you all the time. I think he might actually have a crush on you."

"I'm entirely too old for him, that would be beyond inappropriate" her facial expression indicated her concern, "you should have a talk with him about that."

"Oh, come on, Bones," he laughed, seeing her expression change from concerned to annoyed in a matter of seconds, "it's just a crush. You're trying to tell me you never had a crush on someone way older than you when you were a kid?"

Brennan had to take a minute to think about it, blushing a faint pinkish color when she remembered one of those instances.

"My fourth grade teacher," she admitted.

"Hey, don't be embarrassed," he laughed, taking notice to the way her face flushed when she talked about it, "we've all had a crush on a teacher at some point. Well, I mean, not me, 'cause I went to Catholic school. Needless to say I never had a crush on one of the nuns."

"Aw, you don't have to be embarrassed, Booth," she joked, reaching up with her free hand to touch his cheek, "I'm sure there's an attractive nun here or there."

"Not in my school," he laughed, "they were all a hundred years old."

"So does that mean when I'm a hundred years old you'll no longer be attracted to me?" She asked, playfully, knowing it was unlikely that they were going to live to or past one hundred.

"No, because when you're one hundred, I'll be a hundred and five, so, hopefully, by then, I'll have acquired a taste for older women," he smiled charmingly when she rolled her eyes, "and besides, I bet you'll be the sexiest hundred year old I'll ever see."

Brennan laughed and rested her cheek against his chest, allowing his hands to stroke aimlessly over her arms and torso, seeming to map out every curve of her body. She was content just letting him caress her, until his actions made her slightly uncomfortable. She tensed up when she felt his hand linger at a long scar near her shoulder, his index finger slowly and carefully tracing the long mark that was running from the top of her shoulder to the bottom of her shoulder blade until it was cut off by the fabric of her tank top.

"Booth," she whispered warily.

"Yeah?" His voice was just as soft.

Brennan stayed quiet, feeling self conscious of her body at the moment, which was usually not like her at all. Booth spoke again when she failed to respond.

"Did Villeda do this to you?" He asked, smoothing his thumb over the scar.

Brennan nodded, taking a breath through her nose before she said what she was going to before he started to talk again.

"Please stop," she whispered.

Booth was a little taken back by her request, pulling his hand away from her shoulder.

"Does it hurt?" He asked.

"No," she assured him, sitting up straight, waiting for him to sit up next to her before she continued, "it's just..." she paused, blinking back the few stray tears that threatened to trickle down her cheeks, "it's revolting."

"Bones..."

"Booth, not only is it hideous, but it's a reminder," she told him, keeping her voice low and meek, "it's almost like he branded me. Every time I look at my own body I'm going to have to think of him."

Booth looked at her seriously, wondering why all of this was coming on so sudden. Maybe he hit a nerve when he payed extra attention to her scar. Maybe she felt like he was focusing on it because it was 'revolting'. But his reasons were almost the exact opposite of that. He was focused on it because it was just one of those things that made her, her. Even though she had scars, and they would, by her, be considered imperfections, he felt as if they only added to her beauty, showing how strong she was.

"Don't let it make you self conscious, Temperance," she shivered when he used her first name, "because, no matter what, I love you. Every part of you. Even here," he paused to press a gentle kiss to the scar, causing her to close her eyes and bite her lip, "and here," he took her hand and turned her arm over to kiss the scar on the inside of her forearm.

"I love you," she murmured, keeping her eyes shut as he moved back to the scar on her shoulder to leave small, tender kisses every part of the mark he could reach.

He stopped, brushing her hair out of her eyes for her when she turned to look at him.

"I can't believe he did this to you," he mumbled, catching himself when he noticed her get upset with his words, her half smiling fading. He spoke again after a long pause. "He can't hurt you anymore, Temperance."

"I know," Brennan assured him, grasping his hand once again to hold it tight in hers, "he's deceased. Deceased people cannot hurt anyone."

Booth laughed half heartedly, grasping her face gently between his hands before he leaned down to kiss her, able to feel her mouth turn up into a smile under his.

"I love you," he told her, pulling away just enough to look into her eyes.

"I know," Brennan smiled, running her fingers through his short brown hair, "I know, Booth."

He pulled her back against his chest to hold her close.

"Are you okay?" He asked her.

"Yes, I'm fine," she assured him, "I think it's you who's not okay."

"What do you mean?" He arched an eyebrow curiously at her.

"You're getting upset," she observed, "you're cuddling me and kissing me and getting all emotional, and I just want you to know that I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me."

"I'm not worried about you," he promised, cupping the side of her face gently, "I know who you are, and what you're capable of. And I know you can take care of yourself. And that if you really need anything, you know you can talk to me."

"You seem worried," her voice was slightly concerned, "you say your not, but your voice and body language say otherwise."

"No, I'm not, I swear, I just," he paused, trying to examine the look on her face, "sometimes I feel like it's my fault."

"Why would it be your fault?" She asked, not following his logic.

"Because I was the one who let you go outside alone the night you were abducted," he reminded her, "I should have been with you. If I would have just, gone with you, none of this would have happened."

"You and I both knew it was going to happen eventually," her voice was soft when she spoke, "you couldn't be with me every second of everyday. They were eventually going to find me alone. It was inevitable. Don't blame yourself."

She stroked the line of his jaw gently when she saw it clench, noticing that he was avoiding eye contact with her.

"Booth," her voice was serious, "it's over. Villeda is dead."

"I know," he kissed her temple softly, taking a long pause before he spoke again, "I considered it, Bones. Does that scare you?"

"Considered what?" She asked.

"Killing him," he informed her, "I shot him when we found you. In the arm. I was going to shoot him right through the heart, but then I realized that, that would make me just as bad as him."

Brennan just looked at him, unsure of how to respond to that.

"Um," she started, noticing that his eyes looked darker than usual when he looked down at her, "if, I knew who killed Villeda-"

"Don't," he cut her off, silencing her before she could go any further, since he had a feeling about what she was going to say, "stop there. If you tell me, I'll have to report it to the FBI. As of right now, I have no information on the subject."

Brennan closed her eyes, biting her lip as she tilted her head down.

"You know, don't you?" She asked.

"I don't know anything. But I have a feeling."

"Me too," she pressed her cheek against his chest, keeping her eyes closed as his arm found it's way around her shoulders, holding her close, "I worry about him."

"I know you do," he stopped himself from saying anything about him being her father, since they were trying to keep it anonymous, "but maybe we're wrong."

"Maybe," Brennan sighed, "maybe we're right."

"Maybe," Booth agreed, kissing the top of her head, "but let's not worry about that right now."

Brennan closed her eyes, only to realize that she wasn't at all tired, especially after her nerves became rattled from the conversation about her father. Booth noticed that she was feeling uneasy when he saw the way she practically squeezed her eyes shut, looking anything but relaxed at the moment.

"Bones?" He asked, as her eyes fluttered open to meet him.

"Yes?"

"You know, talking to your father and Parker really got me thinking about our relationship. I mean, we're pretty much a family now, all of us. And I've been thinking, um," he paused, knowing he was about to get the third degree, "maybe, we should get married."

**Cliffhanger? I know, I had an evil moment. I'm sorry. xD**


	79. I'm a Brain Person

**A/N: Okay, so this chapter's kind of short, but I wanted the whole marriage proposal reaction to be it's own chapter (don't ask why, cause I'm not sure xD) and, I knew I left you guys on a cliffhanger, so I wanted to get this one out pretty quick. See? I'm always considering you all. =]**

**So, tell me what you think. I think this chapter came out pretty good, but what do I know? xD**

**And thank you all so much for the feedback, as always. =]**

Chapter Seventy-Nine:

"I'm a Brain Person"

Brennan was silent, her eyes wide, having to wonder if she misheard. They'd talked about this before, she knew that. She knew they already made it clear that they weren't going to get married. Maybe Parker was getting to him. In that case, she would have to put a stop to that.

"Booth," she tried, getting cut off after the first word.

"Bones, I love you," he told her, before she could go into her whole rant about how she felt about marriage, "I love you, and I want to marry you. Maybe not right now, maybe not even this year, but one day, I want to be able to call you my wife."

"I think my father and Parker are getting into your head," she laughed awkwardly, unsure of how she wanted to respond to his sudden outburst, "remember we came to an agreement?"

"I don't care," he took her face between he hands to force her to look into her eyes, making sure she knew how serious he was, "I. Don't. Care. Temperance Brennan, I want everything with you. I want to marry you, and have kids, and a white picket fence in the suburbs, maybe even a dog named Scrappy."

Brennan had to laugh softly as she grabbed his wrists to gently pry his hands off her face, taking them in hers once they were free so she could hold them as she spoke to him seriously.

"Booth, you know I love you, but," she paused, pulling his hand up to her face so she could kiss the ink on the inside of his wrist tenderly, "I can't give you all of that."

"Of course you can," he whispered, "you just have to try. I know how you feel about marriage, but...I don't know. I feel like, with us, it could be different."

"Booth..."

"Bones, baby, don't push me away."

"I'm not pushing you away, Booth, I just, can't be that woman. I can't be the kind of domestic, American dream, woman that you want. And for the last time, _stop_ calling me baby."

"Bones, you're what I want, not a particular kind of woman. I'm not asking you to be some stay-at-home soccer mom who cooks me dinner and takes care of the kids while I'm out working. That's not what I want. You're what I want. Only you. You can give me what I want, because you're what I want, Bones. I need you to understand that," he stopped when he heard her sniff, a few tears sneaking past her closed eyelids, "why are you crying?"

Booth felt immensely guilty when she buried her head in his chest, her tears wetting the front of his shirt as she cried. Brennan was annoyed that he'd reduced her to tears. No matter what she did, she felt as if it wasn't enough for him, like he would always need more.

"I just, don't understand why you do this," she sniffed, once she got her tears under control, her words muffled by the fabric of his shirt, "you're like a spoiled child. I give you an inch and you want a mile," Booth was surprised when she used the figure of speech, "you practically beg me to move in with you, and when I finally do, you decide it's not enough. You want to get _married_."

"I'm sorry," he apologized, her words making him feel even more guilty than he already was, since he knew he was kind of asking a lot from her, "forget it. Forget I asked. I'm sorry."

"I can't just forget you asked me to marry you," she pushed his shoulder in frustration, keeping her face pressed against his chest, "you're so frustrating," she stayed quiet, allowing him to stroke her hair comfortingly, "I just," she finally spoke again after a few minutes, "I just, don't understand why you love me sometimes."

"You're serious?" Booth asked, unable to tell, since he couldn't see her face at the moment, feeling just the smallest pinch of annoyance when she questioned why he loved her.

"Yes," she said, wiping the left over tears that dampened her cheeks away with her hand, "I might be attractive, and intelligent, but, I don't understand why _you_ love me sometimes," she looked at him seriously, noticing his concerned expression, "I just don't know why you don't love someone who can love you back to the same extent. You're a lover, Booth. A heart person. I'm a brain person. I didn't even believe in love until I met you. I don't follow my metaphorical heart when it comes to making decisions, I do what seems logical."

"I don't care that you're a 'brain person'," he promised, "I knew that when I fell in love with you. And, just so you know, you do love me back to the same extent. You love me just as much as I love you. I can tell, just by the way you say my name, and by the way you smile at me. I know it, Bones."

"I really try, Booth," she whispered, "maybe it comes out in these little, everyday things, but, I want to be able to do something that really just shows you exactly how much I love you."

"Bones, every time we make love, we show each other."

"I mean other than that. I don't mean physically. I want to show you, but I don't know how. You're so good at this whole 'love' thing. It's been months and I still barely have an understanding for it. My learning curve is steep. I should have learned something by now. I should at least be able to express my love for you correctly."

"You show me every day, with everything you do," he assured her, "I promise you, I know. You don't have to try."

Brennan took a deep breath, fearing that her reaction to his proposal may have made him question the way she felt about him. Sure, he was saying he knew she loved him, but she knew it was hard to think someone was in love with you when you asked them to marry you and they burst into tears.

"I do love you," she promised him quietly, "but I don't want to marry you," she looked into his eyes, seeing that he was hurt, but trying to mask it, "it's not you I don't want to marry. I do not wish to marry anyone, and you're not an exception to that."

"Well I'm glad it's not just me you refuse to marry," he tried his best to control the bitterly sarcastic tone of his voice, knowing that this was the answer he expected.

"Don't," she held her hand up, telling him to stop, "don't try to guilt me into marrying you."

"I'm not trying to guilt you into anything," he rolled his eyes, unwrapping his arm from around her shoulder, giving her the silent signal that he was annoyed.

He silently reached over and flicked the switch on the light that was resting on the night stand, turning over so his back was to her. Brennan rolled her eyes at how childish he could be and turned over as well, staring blankly at the wall.

Booth was expecting her to say no, for now at least, but was legitimately surprised by her reaction when she broke down crying and put her walls back up, as if they were back to square one. He knew it didn't make any sense, but he was offended when she questioned why he loved her. To him, that was the same thing as questioning why they were together, or questioning whether he actually _did_ love her or not. She knew why he loved her. Surely she did.

And normally, when they'd bicker, it was only a few seconds before one of them turned to the other and kissed them, or rubbed their back, or showed some kind of affection in order to show the other that it was no big deal, and that they weren't mad, but that night, neither of them were willing to make the first apologetic gesture. As far as Brennan was concerned, Booth should have expected her to say no, considering, they'd already agreed on a relationship without marriage, and as far as Booth was concerned, Brennan was just being stubborn and was afraid to take that step.

Brennan bit her lip as she waited for her partner to touch her, or talk to her, or at the very least, acknowledge her existence. She was thoroughly surprised when a few minutes passed, and nothing happened, having to wonder if maybe this wasn't just another petty argument. Maybe he was actually mad at her.

"Booth?" She finally asked, checking to see if he was asleep.

"What?" He responded, sounding disinterested already.

Brennan was taken back by the rudeness of his tone.

"Are we breaking up?" She asked, somewhere inside, fearing the answer.

"No," he answered, not even having to think about it.

"Okay," she responded, silently relieved as she closed her eyes once more, "goodnight, Booth."

"Night, Bones."

Brennan was quiet for another few minutes, before she finally spoke again.

"I love you."

When she didn't get a response, she turned over to face his back once again, propping herself up on her elbow so she could peek over his shoulder. No, he had to be sleeping. He couldn't have been so mad that he wouldn't even say 'I love you too'. And just as she suspected from his lack of a response, he was. So instead of waking him up and trying to talk about what just happened, she simply kissed her sleeping partner's temple and turned back over so her back was to him again, ignoring the warm body next to her as best as she could, and cuddling up with just the pillows and blankets.


	80. So Much Better Than Chinese Take Out

**A/N: Hello everyone. =] Thank you all for all the feedback on the last chapter. And, by the way, I _know_, some of you are mind readers. You all know what I'm going to write. I read the reviews that have predictions, and I'm like 'how did they know?' xD. **

**Anyway, here's the next chapter. It's fluffy, but a tiny bit angsty at the same time, which sounds like an oxymoron, but you'll understand once you read. I promise though, this isn't going to turn into an angst-fest. I think you all understand why things are a little rocky between them at the moment. But, don't worry. You know I can't write angst for too long before my head explodes. xD**

Chapter Eighty:

"So Much Better Than Chinese Take-Out"

The next morning, it was eerily silent in Max Keenan's guest room, and Brennan could tell that something was different before she was even fully conscious. Yes, she was in another bed, and yes, she and Booth didn't sleep cuddled up to one another the night prior, but it was something else. Not only was she not pressed against her partner's back, or being held in a vice grip under his arm, but he wasn't there at all. She reached over to run her hand over the cold sheets next to her, confirming her suspicion before she got out of bed and made her way out to the kitchen, where Max was sitting with a cup of coffee and a newspaper crossword.

"Hi, sweetheart," he greeted her, without looking up from his crossword.

"Hi," Brennan responded, taking a seat across from him as she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, "did Booth and Parker leave?"

"Yeah, they left earlier. Booth had to go to work," her father informed her, "there's coffee in the pot if you want some."

Brennan wasn't even paying attention to his coffee offer.

"Normally he wakes me up before he leaves," Brennan pondered aloud.

"Maybe he just didn't want to disturb you," Max suggested, "it's nothing for you to stress about. What other reason would he have?"

Brennan thought back to the night prior, and how annoyed he was at her, not even bothering to kiss her goodnight or even speak, unless she spoke to him first. But she figured there was no way he was still mad about that. It was just a stupid fight, they had stupid fights all the time. She knew she was kidding herself about the whole 'petty argument' thing, even though she was still trying to convince herself that was what it was. She knew for a fact that they never fought like that. It wasn't loud, there were no 'I hate you's or 'go to hell's, but, she just knew something about this fight was much more serious than the rest.

"Booth and I had a minor disagreement last night," she told him, unsure of whether she wanted to discuss this with her father or not.

"Oh?" Max sounded slightly surprised.

"He asked me to marry him."

"Oh," the surprise in his voice was more apparent now, "wow. Good for him. So when's the wedding?"

Brennan looked at her father curiously. He obviously wasn't putting two and two together.

"I said no."

"Well why'd you go and do that?"

"Because, dad, I don't want to get married," she was growing frustrated with the fact that nobody seemed to understand this, "I'd rather us just stay the way we are. What we have now should be good enough for him. But, no, of course it's not. He'll always need more than I can, or am willing to give him," she stopped when she realized she was growing increasingly more annoyed with her partner when she continued to talk.

"Honey, I might be wrong, but I'm pretty sure he's not proposing to be malicious," Max had to laugh lightly at how his daughter misinterpreted things like that, "I think he's asking you to marry him because he actually loves you."

Brennan crossed her arms over her chest, wanting anything but to listen to her father lecture her on relationships at the moment.

"He makes me so angry sometimes" her voice was bitter when she spoke, "according to him, I'm supposed to just forget everything I believe in and marry him, just because, he's Booth. I love him, but that doesn't mean he has the right to just, stake a claim on me," she uncrossed her arms, looking at her father seriously, "you know, the only reason he even wants this is so I'm 'his'. He's being all alpha male-ish again."

"I think you're blowing this a little out of proportion, Tempe."

Brennan took a minute to think about it once she got her anger under control.

"Maybe," she admitted, even though admitting she was wrong was always a little painful for her, "maybe I should talk to him."

"You should," Max agreed, "I wouldn't want to see your relationship get ruined over something like this. You finally found someone you're willing to settle down with. Don't let it slip by, Temperance. I'm telling you now, you'll regret it."

"I will," Brennan assured him, "maybe I'll stop by his-" she quickly caught herself, "_our_ apartment a little later."

* * *

Later that night, Booth was sitting on his couch, beer in hand, watching ESPN by himself. He was barely paying attention to what the announcers on the show were saying, as his thumb absentmindedly circled the top of the beer bottle, occasionally stopping when he decided to take a sip. He hadn't spoken to Brennan all day, simply because he didn't feel the desire to. Even if she didn't notice it, she hurt him when she not only rejected the idea of marrying him, but questioned his love as well. By now, Booth figured she should have known that he loved her. He was pulled out of his own thoughts when he heard the sound of keys rattling and the door being pushed open.

"Hi," Brennan greeted him, once she shut the door behind her, glancing at the beer bottle in his hand, "you know, drinking alone is one of the signs of an alcohol problem."

Booth couldn't help but feel guilty when he saw the innocent smile on her face. She had no idea he was mad at her. She probably didn't think there was any reason he would be. And the thought of that made him feel guilty for not only being annoyed about something that should have been put in the past, but not telling her about it either. The considerate thing to do would have been to call her and try to talk to her about it. But, as guilty as he felt, and as much as he knew it was wrong, he still couldn't help but feel just the tiniest bit of resentment towards her at the moment.

"Then come change that," he smiled back at his partner, doing an exception job masking how he was really feeling, "beer's on the bottom shelf."

"I know where the beer is," she smiled, "this _is_ my apartment, you know."

"Oh, wow," Booth laughed, when she went into the kitchen to grab her own bottle, sitting next to him once it was open, "I'm surprised you're actually admitting that we live together."

"Well now that I officially moved in, it would be stupid of me not to," she took a sip of her beer before speaking again, "where's Parker?"

"He left, Rebecca came and picked him up," Booth told her, "don't you have a heart diseased father to take care of?"

"I wanted to have a serious discussion with you, and I didn't think it would be appropriate to speak about over the phone."

"Okay?"

Brennan paused before speaking, feeling nervous that this was just going to start yet another fight, which was the last thing she wanted.

"I'm going to be honest with you right now," she looked at her partner, as if she were seeking his approval to continue, "I thought you were still mad at me about last night."

"Last night?" Booth was playing dumb very well, "what about last night?"

"You know, the whole," she paused, not even realizing that he was deceiving her, "marriage thing."

"That?" Booth laughed, brushing it off as if it were nothing, "no, Bones, that wasn't even," he paused, unsure of how he wanted to word it, "I plead temporary insanity. It was stupid of me to even ask. Stupid, and selfish. I know you don't want to get married and I understand that."

"Thank you," she sighed in relief, "I was just, worried when you didn't say goodbye to me this morning."

"I didn't want to wake you up," he chuckled, "way to assume the worst."

"It's just, you always wake me up, and then, I just felt as if it wasn't a coincidence that the one night we had a bad argument, you didn't wake me up the next morning," she saw the amused look in his eyes and blushed, feeling foolish all of the sudden, "I know, it was foolish. I guess I was just-"

"Thinking with your heart?" Booth smirked, knowing that he was teaching her a thing or two about love, and following your heart as opposed to your brain.

"That isn't logical. Your heart is simply a muscle, incapable of thinking," she stopped when she realized that she was being too practical, "but, I understand what you mean, and I guess I was thinking with my metaphorical heart."

"I'm so glad you're learning from me," he smiled charmingly, causing her to laugh and roll her eyes playfully, "pretty soon you'll be making pop culture references."

"I doubt it," she laughed, standing up from the couch and brushing her pants off, "did you eat? I thought maybe we could go get some Thai or go to the diner if you were hungry."

"There's Chinese take-out on the counter if you want some," he gestured towards the kitchen, "I already ate."

Brennan made her way into the kitchen, grabbing a box of fried rice and a fork before she went back into the living room to sit next to her partner, setting her food on the coffee table next to her bottle of beer.

"I thought you were hungry?" Booth chuckled, watching as she leaned her head against his shoulder, trying his absolute hardest to put the whole marriage incident behind them and enjoy his girlfriend's company.

"Well I can only stay for an hour or two," she shrugged, placing a hand on his thigh as she spoke, "so I wanted to spend that time with my partner. I'll eat in a little while, if I get really hungry," she looked up at him, attempting to study his expression, "do you, want me to leave? You don't really seem all that happy to see me."

"No, Bones, of course I'm happy to see you," he promised, wrapping an arm around her shoulder to pull her close, "I just, had a long day at work, and I'm kind of worn down, but that doesn't mean I don't want you here," he kissed the top of her head affectionately, "I always want you here. That'll never change."

"Well that was much more than a comment on whether or not you want me to stay or go back to my father's for the night," she observed, narrowing her eyes at him in confusion, "are you sure nothing's wrong?"

"There is absolutely nothing wrong," he assured her, brushing her hair away from her neck to press a gentle kiss to the skin that was hidden underneath, "nothing at all."

"As long as you're serious," she half joked, her voice in a low murmur as she felt his lips move to the crook of her neck.

Brennan shivered when she felt the fabric of her shirt being slid up, feeling the rough skin of his hands make contact with her stomach, causing her eyes to flutter closed at the sensation. Her mouth fell open just a little bit, drawing in a shaky breath.

"Booth?" She asked breathlessly, her voice having an almost panicked tone to it.

"Hm?" He mumbled against her skin.

"Why does this feel different?" She asked, placing her hands on his when they caressed the soft skin of her stomach.

"I don't know, Bones, it doesn't feel different to me" he chuckled, kissing her cheek before he finally claimed her lips, "maybe you forgot what it felt like because it's been three days."

"That's not likely," she whispered, unable to get her voice to project any louder at the moment, "and, I know you're only doing this to avoid talking about whatever's bothering you."

Booth simply ignored her suspicion and moved to her ear to take the lobe gently between his teeth, before releasing it and blowing gently on the side of her neck, causing her to shiver and swallow the lump that had formed in her throat.

"What was that?" He asked, in a husky voice.

"Take me," she whispered submissively, yet shamelessly.

"Good answer," Booth smiled the infamous charm smile before reconnecting their lips, proceeding to do exactly as she asked of him.

* * *

"So much better than Chinese take-out," Brennan laughed softly, kissing his pulse point as she tugged the throw blanket they'd managed to pull of the back of the couch to tangle themselves in over her arms, her back resting against her partner's chest.

Booth laughed and smoothed down her hair for her, tapping under her chin gently to get her to tilt her head up to meet his lips.

"I wish you could stay the night," he told her, once their lips disconnected, his hands roaming aimlessly over her body, speaking again before she could start to explain herself, "I know, I know, you need to babysit Max to make sure he doesn't do anything dangerous to his health."

"Precisely, or else I would stay," she assured him, reaching over to grab the box of fried rice and her fork off of the coffee table, "it'll only be a few more days until I'm back for good," she paused, taking a bite of her food before she spoke again, completely changing the subject, "there was definitely something different about that, and don't just say it's because you were 'in the mood' because I'm certain that's not it. I still think it's about last night."

Booth looked at her curiously, not because she was eating in their post coital moment, but because she was still bringing up the night prior, even after all that, just causing him to get secretly annoyed all over again, even though he had, for the most part, let it go by that point.

"I told you already, I'm not mad about last night," he told her, for, what had to be, the third time that night, kissing her shoulder softly, "stop bringing it up. Just, eat your fried rice and let me enjoy my partner for the next half hour."

"I believe I can manage that," she told him, using the hand she wasn't eating with to take one of his, lacing their fingers together and letting them rest on her blanket-covered stomach, "and even though I'm saying it felt different that time, I don't want you thinking I'm disappointed, because I'm not. It was incredible."

"I know," Booth laughed, kissing her shoulder once more, "I _was_ there you know."

"Where did you learn how to do that thing you do?" She asked, keeping her question very vague, to avoid causing him discomfort when he listened to her describe it.

"It's just my thing, Bones," he shrugged, a cocky smile on his face, "I'm just glad to know it's effective."

"It's _very_ effective," she assured him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, "once my new book comes out, I want you to read the end of the ninth chapter, and then we're going to try it."

"Don't tease me," he warned her, "just give me your laptop and I'll get the sneak preview."

"No. Just because we're seeing each other doesn't mean you get the option to read my books before they come out," she laughed, taking another bite of her fried rice, "nice try though."

"You really want to wait until your book comes out, and then wait for me to get around to reading the first nine chapters?" He asked, looking at her curiously when she tilted her head up to look at him, "Why don't you just tell me what it is?"

"Because that would make you uncomfortable," she shrugged, even though she knew she didn't want to tell him, because it would make _her_ uncomfortable, "I'd rather you just read it. And besides, there's still a scene from chapter two of my second book that we haven't tried, so we can try that while we're waiting for my book to come out. I'd suggest you read it before I come back."

"To torture myself?" He asked.

"So you know what I'm going to be expecting when I come home," she bit her lip in a half seductive half nervous gesture.

"Okay," she could tell by the tone of his voice that he was getting slightly uncomfortable.

Brennan had to laugh, setting down her food before sitting up, arching her back against her partner's chest in an attempt to stretch it out.

"I should go," she told him, turning herself around to face him, "Max is probably wondering where I am."

"Alright," Booth kissed the bridge of her nose softly, "just do me a favor, Bones. If he asks where you were, don't give him the details."

"Okay," Brennan nodded, unsure as to why he acted like she was going to describe their activities to her father, "I'll just tell him I came by to talk, but came home late because we decided to engage in intercourse."

"No!" He sat up straight, watching her as she got redressed, "just, tell him we talked."

"Saying we engaged in intercourse is not graphic, Booth."

She turned around, so her back was to him, kneeling in front of him to silently ask him to clip the back of her bra for her.

"I don't want your father thinking of me as the guy who ravishes his daughter," he told her, taking her signal and clipping her bra back together for her, "sometimes less is more, Bones. Discretion is the key."

Brennan wasn't sure why he was so set on her father not knowing what they did, even though he knew they slept together, but chose not to argue with him about it, since it really wasn't anything to fight over. Once all of her clothes were back on her body, she bent down to peck her partner on the mouth, smiling when their lips disconnected.

"Bye," she whispered.

"Bye," he whispered back, with a smile.

"Promise you're not upset about last night?"

They looked at each other for a minute, and Booth saw his girlfriend's smile start to fade when the silence lingered. As much as he wanted to assure her he didn't care, promise her he wasn't upset, he couldn't bring himself to promise. If he promised, he'd be lying. He wasn't extremely bent out of shape over it, but it still kind of hurt, and he knew, in the back of her mind, she knew that.

"I'm not upset," he assured her.

"Good," Brennan smiled, kissing his lips one last time before she stood back up straight, "I'll talk to you tomorrow then," she turned to leave, only turning back once she remembered to remind him of one last thing, "and don't forget about chapter two. I'll more than likely be coming home tomorrow night."


	81. We're Best Friends

**A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out, I was kind of on a roll with my other story, so it took a little while to get around to writing this chapter. I really appreciate all the reviews and alerts ect. though =] You guys are great. And, by the way, I'm totally refraining from saying anything about tonight's episode, since I don't know who's seen it and who hasn't. xD**

Chapter Eighty-One:

"We're Best Friends"

"Brennan."

"Bren, you need to come down to the Jeffersonian. Soon. I know you're with your dad and everything, but, this seems important."

Brennan was sitting at her father's kitchen table, peacefully enjoying a cup of coffee, when she got the phone call from Angela, telling her that she had to go to the lab. Now, she knew if Angela was trying to drag her into work, that it had to be important, since Angela was always the one trying to convince her to take some time off.

"What is it?" She asked curiously, "It isn't something we can handle over the phone?"

"No, sweetie, someone's here, and he wants to talk to you," Angela started, her voice indicating her uneasiness, "I asked if he tried to get in touch with Booth, but he said he would only talk to you. His name was, um, Wilson? Robert Wilson, I think."

She understood now why the person trying to get in touch with her didn't want to talk to Booth. It made sense. Booth wasn't particularly nice to Robert. In fact, he was a little cruel, so it was only natural that he would want to talk to someone he was comfortable with.

"That's the murder victims' brother," Brennan explained, setting her cup of coffee down on the table before she stood up, knowing that she really had no choice but to get ready and go over to the lab to talk to him, "I'll be right there. Tell him not to leave."

"I don't think he was planning on it," Angela told her, "he's been standing by your office for fifteen minutes. He said he'd wait here for you."

"Okay, that's good, make sure he sticks to that plan, and tell him to go inside and relax," Brennan told her, "I'll see you in a little while," she paused, remembering to tell Angela something before she hung up, "and can you do me a favor, Ange? Don't tell Booth about this. I can't imagine him reacting well."

"Because Robert wants to talk to you and not him?" Angela asked.

"No, he knows that Robert prefers me, but, he's going to look too far into it, thinking Robert's trying to manipulate me or something, so, just don't tell him. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"Alright," Angela's voice was wary, "whatever you say, sweetie. He's _your_ boyfriend."

"Please don't call him that," Brennan almost subconsciously scolded her friend when she used the dreaded word, "I'll be there in a little bit."

* * *

When Brennan reached her office she turned the doorknob easily, opening the door to see Robert looking at a picture on her desk of Russ, his wife, and their daughters.

"Hello, Robert," Brennan greeted the fifteen year old warmly, smiling at him when he looked up from the picture to look at her with big, innocent looking, eyes.

"Hi, Doctor Brennan," he sounded genuinely happy to see her, taking one last glance at the picture of Russ and Amy, "who's this?"

"My brother, his wife, and their children," she answered, taking a seat on her couch before motioning for him to come sit next to her.

When the teenager took his place next to her, Brennan turned so she was facing him, keeping the warm smile on her face in order to comfort him, since she knew he was probably still upset about his little siblings. Even though Booth thought he was responsible for their deaths, and thought he was full of crap when he cried and talked about how much he loved them, Brennan believed him, and was willing to be the person who he could come to if he needed to talk.

"What did you come to discuss?" She asked.

His smile faded when she asked the question, looking at the wall of her office with a solemn expression.

"I saw really tiny bones on that big table when I came here," his voice was low when he spoke to her, not daring to make eye contact, "were they, from my brothers and sister?"

Brennan wasn't sure what she wanted to say. She didn't want to lie to him, but she didn't want to upset him anymore than he already was by telling him the truth.

"Yes," her voice was quiet as well, "they were."

Robert nodded, and Brennan could see the tears well up in his eyes when he got the confirmation he needed, keeping his eyes locked on an artifact sitting on one of the shelves in her office. Brennan looked at him, placing a comforting hand on his arm when she saw that he was close to crying.

"You can cry if you need to," she told him, hearing him sniff.

"Why are you nice to me?" He asked, looking down to see her small hand on his forearm, "Agent Booth, he hates me. And you two are partners, so, I figured you'd be on the same side. So if he hates me, then why don't you hate me too?"

"Because I have my own opinions on people, I don't just take Booth's word for it," she told him, "there are a lot of things Booth and I do not see eye to eye on, and, apparently, you are one of them. I don't think he has anything against you. You just caught him on the wrong day at the wrong time. If you tried to talk to him again, he might not be so cruel."

"Are you and Agent Booth dating?" He asked, almost as if out of nowhere.

"N-No, we're not," Brennan lied, "why do you ask?"

"Just wondering," Robert shrugged, "you guys seemed like you were really fond of each other."

"We enjoy each other's company, we're very close friends, but we aren't dating," Brennan knew there was really no reason she had to lie to him, but just felt uncomfortable discussing her love life with a teenager she barely knew.

"Oh," Robert looked around her office for a few minutes before speaking again, "Doctor Brennan?"

"Call me Temperance."

"Okay, Temperance," he corrected himself, a small smile on his face, "when do you think you'll find out what happened to my brothers and sister?"

"I don't know," Brennan told him, honestly, "we're working very hard though. I was just forced to take a few days off because my father had a heart attack."

"I'm sorry," the teenager rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"He's perfectly fine. I'm actually coming back to work tomorrow."

"Oh, I'm glad he's okay."

"Thank you," she paused, seeing the distressed look on his face, "and, Robert, don't worry. We're going to find out who did this to your siblings, and make sure he gets locked up so he can never hurt anyone ever again."

"Thank you," Robert stood up from her couch and brushed the lint off of his jeans, "I'm sorry for dragging you into work. I had no idea about your father. If I would have known..."

"Robert, it's fine, don't worry about it," Brennan assured him, "if you ever need anyone to talk to, don't hesitate to come here. I know how it feels to lose family members. My parents abandon me when I was fifteen and my mother died a few years ago. My brother was supposed to step up and take care of me, but he abandon me too, and I had to go into the foster system," she wasn't entirely sure why she was sharing all of this with a stranger, but she knew if she expected him to be honest with her, she would have to be honest with him, "I was bounced around from foster family to foster family. Some of them were good, and some of them were terrible," she paused, moving her focus to the wall when she realized that Robert was staring at her, "One of my foster families locked me in the trunk of a car for two days for breaking a dish. But, some kids had it much worse than me. Foster children are treated like garbage. Booth would argue that, that is why I'm so distant, so unwilling to let people in, and open up to them."

"You're doing a pretty good job opening up now," he shrugged. He was incredibly mature for a fifteen year old, she observed. "It sounds like you had a tough childhood, but, maybe if you didn't, you wouldn't have turned out the way you did."

"A lot of people say that," she turned to look at him once again, "but, I don't know. Maybe I would be intelligent and personable if my childhood wasn't, the way it was."

Robert looked at her with a confused expression, arching an eyebrow.

"Just because Agent Booth says your childhood made you the way you are doesn't mean it's true," he shrugged, "I don't know why he would say something like that anyway. I thought you said the two of you were friends?"

"We are," Brennan assured him, "we're best friends."

"I don't know," Robert's voice was wary, "my best friends wouldn't say crap like that to me. It seems a little uncalled for."

"That's just the way things are between Booth and I. It's hard to explain. A lot of people find it strange, but we're always brutally honest with one another, both of us. There's plenty of things I've said to him that people may classify as rude or nasty."

"I'm sure you never insulted him because of childhood trauma."

When she thought about it, Brennan realized that, that was very true. She knew Booth had been abused as a child, but she never made comments about how that affected his personality, at least, not that she could ever remember.

"It's not a big deal," Brennan assured the teenager, shrugging her shoulders, "he's a very good friend otherwise."

"I don't know," he shrugged as well, "I guess you know him better than I do," he paused, looking at her again, completely forgetting that he was about to leave a few minutes prior until something clicked in his mind again, "oh, God, I'm sorry. I was supposed to be leaving."

"Oh, no, don't worry about it," she assured him, standing up as well, smoothing her skirt down, "that was me. I was going on about my problems, which you probably don't need to be hearing about right now, considering your situation," she looked at him apologetically, "just ignore me. I apologize. I lost control of my emotions."

"Don't apologize," he assured her, "sometimes we just have to let it out."

"I have other people who I can 'let it out' to," she was set on making sure he understood that she was sorry for ranting about her childhood problems when he just lost all three of his siblings, "that was inappropriate."

"Don't worry about it," Robert pulled his jacket back over his shoulders, "no harm done."

Brennan heard his words but didn't respond, pulling out her phone to see that it had only a limited amount of battery left.

"Temperance?" Robert asked, his hand on the doorknob "Are you leaving?"

"I was going to stay, but I have to stop home and pick up my phone charger," she stuffed her phone back into her pocket, walking out of her office when Robert held the door open for her, "thank you."

"Thank _you_," he told her, "thank you for talking to me."

"It was no problem at all," she assured him, "if you ever need to talk again..."

"I know," he nodded.

Brennan smiled, before shutting her office door behind her and leaving the lab, with Robert following soon after.

* * *

It was about eight thirty in the evening, and it was dark and silent in Booth and Brennan's apartment, until the door swung open and slammed closed, the partners, dragging one another through the doorway, their lips never leaving the other's. Brennan gasped when she was pushed up against the wall, feeling her partner's hand leave her waist to feel around for the light switch on the wall, mumbling something inaudible against her lips when he found it.

Brennan smiled underneath his lips, recalling their conversation at the diner, where they met so they could have dinner before she came home for good, knowing that her dad was okay enough to take care of himself.

"_I feel like you've been gone for a month," Booth admitted, popping a french fry into his mouth, "it gets quiet without you." _

"_I'm sorry, I've been forgetting to call," she apologized._

"_Oh shut up," he laughed, seeing her arch an eyebrow in confusion, "don't apologize for something so stupid." _

_Brennan reached across the table, taking his hand to hold it tightly in hers. _

"_I'm exhausted," she admitted, taking a bite of her salad with the hand that wasn't occupied by his, "I can't wait to go home, change into sweat pants and a t-shirt, and just lay on the couch, maybe watch a movie that I've probably never heard of, maybe have some popcorn."_

"_That sounds good to me," Booth smiled at her from across the table, "I'm kind of beat too. Work's been hectic. I could use a night of R&R."_

Brennan had to laugh silently at how quickly those plans went out the window, all starting with an innocent kiss in the elevator, that escalated to a mini-groping session, and then, eventually, to this. A night of R&R didn't seem to be where this was going at all, but Brennan wasn't entirely surprised by that. They could never resist each other after a bit of flirting and a few kisses. That was how this all started anyway. Four years of flirting, and a mistletoe kiss.

"What's gotten into you all of the sudden?" Brennan murmured, when his lips abandon hers and moved to the side of her neck.

"It's been too long," his words vibrated against her neck.

"We just did it yesterday," she reminded him, "on the couch."

"That didn't count."

"Why not?"

"Because," he disconnected his lips from her skin long enough to form a few sentences, "that was a quickie on the couch. We haven't _made love _in almost a week."

"So now love making has credentials?" She asked, tugging on his hair to get him to look into her eyes.

"Yes," his smile was charming.

Brennan shifted uncomfortably, sandwiched between his strong body and the hard surface of the wall.

"Does shoving me up against a wall and attacking me qualify as love making?" She asked.

"No," Booth had to laugh, taking a step back and tugging her by the waist so she was no longer pressed up against the wall, "sorry, I got carried away."

"It happens to the best of us," she smiled, leaning up to kiss him again, before a knock on the door put a stop to her plans.

"Damn," Booth muttered, "why does it feel like people call and knock on the door at the most inconvenient times?"

"I don't know, but it certainly does."

Booth kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, then her lips before letting go of her hips.

"Go," he told her, gesturing towards their bedroom, "I'll be there in a minute."

Brennan smiled and snuck a kiss to his lips before letting go of his arms and making her way into their bedroom. She didn't realize it until she opened the door and stepped into the familiar room, but it felt good to be home. Even though it had only been a few days since she slept in this bed, it felt like forever. Taking her earrings out and her necklace off, Brennan set them on the night stand before getting into bed, sitting with her legs crossed, simply waiting for Booth.

"Bones?" She heard him call after a few minutes, barely noticing the nervous tone of his voice.

"Whenever you're ready, Booth," she put on her best bedroom voice. Angela had told her that guys are much more responsive when you speak to them in a sultry voice, which she found to be true. It drove Booth crazy when she did it.

"No, Bones, I need you to come here real quick."

Brennan pushed the covers off of her body, getting up and going back out of their bedroom, into the kitchen, where Booth was staring at a bouquet of daffodils with a confused expression, his eyes seeming to linger on the card hanging off of them.

"Someone got you flowers?" Brennan asked, taking notice to the flowers he was staring down.

"No," Booth shook his head, "someone got _you_ flowers. Robert Wilson."

"What?" Brennan was a little stunned, reaching for them and opening up the little card, just to make sure he wasn't messing with her.

Sure enough, they were from little Robert Wilson.

"How, does he know where I live?" She asked, "And how does he know I like daffodils?"

"Bones," Booth's tone was serious, "the kid's stalking you."


	82. I Can Handle This

**A/N: Thank you all for your feedback and such, as usual. =] And sorry about the angsty-ness of this chapter. I don't know what got into me. xD**

**And the song Booth hears in the car is 'Name' by the Goo Goo Dolls. I just thought it was a good song for them. =]**

Chapter Eighty-Two:

"I Can Handle This"

"Stalking?" Brennan asked, feeling her mouth go slightly dry, "No, that's, not possible. He seemed like such a nice boy. I-I was telling him about my childhood..." she paused, letting her voice trail off, "oh God," she placed her hand over her chest, able to feel her heart pounding erratically against her palm, "that must have been why he was asking me so many questions."

Booth was silent, just looking at her, unsure of what to say.

"He's stalking me?"

Booth wasn't sure whether he wanted to answer that or not. He didn't want to lie to her, but he didn't want to tell her she was being stalked either.

"Booth. Answer me."

"I-I don't know," he stumbled over his words, "I, think he might be. But I don't know for sure. I just don't know how else he would know you lived here."

"Oh God," she whispered again, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Listen, Bones, there's no need to freak yourself out until you know for sure," Booth attempted to calm her down, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her close, "just, try not to think about it right now. We'll figure this all out in the morning."

Booth leaned down to kiss the side of her neck softly, attempting to resume what was about to happen before the knock on the door, only to feel Brennan wriggle out of his grip.

"Booth, I'm really not in the mood anymore," she told him, her tone soft, but flat, as she pressed her palm to his chest to push him away gently.

"Okay," he lowered his tone as well, "so how about I run you a bath and-"

"No," Brennan whispered, placing her hands in front of her to stop him from placing his hands on her shoulders, the way he was going to, "I just, want to go to bed."

"Talk to me, Bones" he urged her, seeing that she was pretty freaked out.

"No," she unintentionally snapped at him, "I don't want to talk. I just want to go to bed. Is that so difficult for you to understand?"

Before Booth could get his bearings enough to respond, Brennan had stormed off to their bedroom, yanking something to sleep in out of her bag and quickly changing into it. Subconsciously, she felt bad for being so nasty to him when he was only trying to help, but she knew how Booth got when it came to things like this. He hovered, and the only way she could get him not to would be if she was stern with him. Granted, she understood that there was a fine line between stern and rude, and she was pretty sure that she may have just crossed it.

Huffing in frustration, Booth opened the card hanging off of the bouquet to read it over, not entirely sure why, since he knew it was only going to make him angry all over again.

"Temperance,

Thank you for taking the time to talk to me today. I know daffodils are your favorite, so I got them for you as a token of my appreciation. If you ever want to get anything off your chest again, don't hesitate to call me.

With love, Robert"

_With love_. The words caused Booth to clench his jaw. Bones didn't believe in love, not until she met him. And now this kid was just throwing the word around as if it meant nothing. He was just a stupid teenager with a crush on an older, attractive, successful, woman. He had no idea what love was. And who did he think he was calling her Temperance anyway?

"Stop looking at it."

Booth heard a small voice behind him, jumping when she startled him, the small card falling from his hand.

"Christ," he muttered.

He hated when she snuck up on him like that.

"Throw them away," her voice was soft, even though her words were demanding.

"Why?" He asked, turning to face her, seeing that she had changed into her sleep clothes.

"Because, I don't want them," she said, simply, stepping next to him, leaning her hands against the table as she glanced up at him, "Booth?"

"What?"

"You seem upset."

"I am upset," he kept his voice low, looking at her fully for the first time since she joined him back in the kitchen, "you go talk to this kid about your childhood, which, I thought you didn't even feel comfortable talking to _me_ about, and then he becomes obsessed with you."

"This isn't about him becoming obsessed with me at all," Brennan accused, "you're upset that I talked to him about my childhood and not you."

"I practically have to pry information out of you. But this kid, he knows everything. He probably knows more than I do."

"Booth, if you'd like to sit and have a discussion about our traumatic childhoods then that can be arranged."

Booth turned so he was facing her fully.

"Don't be a wise ass," he warned.

"You know what? I can't talk to you when you're like this," Brennan held up her hands in defeat, rolling her eyes, "you have no right to be upset with me right now. I'm the one who just found out I'm being stalked. You're being selfish and irrational."

"Selfish?" Booth raised his voice just slightly, the one simple word setting him off, "I've been anything but selfish in this relationship. Do you even realize how much I've sacrificed for you? I gave up everything I wanted. A wife, kids, a family, all for you, Temperance."

"I _knew_ you were still mad about that," she shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him, "you've been looking for a reason to fight with me just so you could bring that up."

"Yes, because everything I do is just to get a rise out of you."

"You and I both know it's true. You've been trying to emotionally blackmail me for the past two days."

"Emotional blackmail? You've got to be kidding me," he scoffed.

"No, I'm not kidding you. You've been trying to guilt me into marrying you for days."

"Oh, God, don't start that again. I am not trying to guilt you into marrying me. Maybe I am, in your little Temperance Brennan fantasy land, but you need to join the real world, Bones, and see things for what they actually are. Do I want to marry you? Yes. Am I going to force you into it if that isn't what you want? Of course not. So stop trying to make me look like the villain. Just stop bringing it up, stop talking about it. Pretend it never happened. "

"I won't talk about it if you stop! Just stop. It's not too much to ask. You're not fooling anyone with your whole 'if it's not what you want then it's okay' act. Because I know you, Booth, and I know what you're doing. I do not want to marry you. Stop trying to make me feel like I'm such a horrible person for that, when we've established this since day one."

Booth just looked at her, anger overshadowing the immense amount of hurt he was feeling. Without saying anything, he just turned away from her and grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch.

Brennan, somewhere inside, knew that this whole marriage thing was going to blow up, as much as they were trying to keep it contained by skating around it and avoiding talking about it. She wasn't even sure how this whole conversation about Robert Wilson stalking her turned into the marriage fight anyway. She tried to retrace the argument, attempting to see the abrupt change from Robert Wilson to marriage, only to stop when she saw her partner heading towards the door.

"Booth? Where are you going?"

"Out," he snapped, pulling the door open and slamming it shut, causing the walls to rattle just slightly.

* * *

To be honest, he had no idea where he was going. He just needed to drive, with the windows open, and get his mind off of things. He knew this fight was only temporary, or, at least, was attempting to convince himself of that, but he also knew that even if and when they did make up, this whole marriage thing was far from over. This was only the first explosion. He knew this was bound to explode multiple times before it was finally settled.

When Booth was in the car, driving down the roads of Washington D.C., he flicked on the radio, simply to distract himself.

_Now we're grown up orphans that never knew their names  
__We don't belong to no one, that's a shame.  
__But you could hide beside me, maybe for a while.  
__And I won't tell no one your name.  
__I won't tell 'em your name._

Booth listened to the lyrics of the song, his mind immediately drifting back to his girlfriend. Both of them had their issues, their childhood traumas. Booth referred to them as the Land of Misfit Toys. Sometimes he wasn't sure how two such screwed up people ended up together.

_And scars are souvenirs you never lose  
__The past is never far.  
__Did you lose yourself somewhere out there?  
__Did you get to be a star?  
__And don't it make you sad to know that life  
__is more than who we are?_

He loosened his grip on the steering wheel a bit as he started to relax, his thoughts causing him to feel like the biggest jerk on the planet. She needed him right now. Maybe he was being a little selfish. Even though she was the one who brought marriage back up, and accused him of 'emotional blackmail', he shouldn't have let it escalate like that, he should have nipped it in the bud as soon as she started.

_We grew up way too fast, and now there's nothing to believe  
__The reruns all become our history.  
__A tired song keeps playing on a tired radio  
__And I won't tell no one you're name._

Pulling into an empty parking lot, Booth turned his SUV around to start on his way back to his apartment. He didn't want to fight with her like this, not over something stupid. And, not to mention, this kid was getting what he wanted. It was those flowers that triggered everything. It was those stupid flowers that were tearing them apart at the moment, and in this situation, they needed to be solid. Brennan needed to know that she didn't have to be afraid, that she wasn't alone, and Booth needed to know that she loved him, and trusted him. They couldn't afford to be angry at one another in this kind of situation, so Booth was willing to put everything aside, be a man, and apologize. For letting the argument spin out of control, and, most of all, for walking out on her, the way every man in her life did. The thought horrified him. All the times he told her he wasn't like Sully, or Michael, or even her father, were irrelevant now, considering, he did the same exact thing they all did.

_I think about you all the time, but I don't need the same.  
__It's lonely where you are, come back down  
__and I won't tell 'em your name._

_

* * *

_Brennan was curled up in bed, all the lights off, drifting in and out of consciousness. She knew it was wrong of her to get so snippy, and the longer she laid in bed alone, the more she started to wonder if all of this could have been avoided. Most people would say the answer was yes. Very easily too. But it all escalated so fast, that she wasn't sure if it could have been controlled. Maybe with love came fighting too. Or maybe that was just with the two of them.

There were a few times she reached for her phone, wanting to call Angela and vent to her about how horrible Booth was being, but, she knew her best friend, and she knew she'd take Booth's side in this argument. Sometimes Angela was a very difficult best friend. Always brutally honest. If only she was the type of friend who always pretended you were right, even when you weren't.

By the time the front door opened, Brennan was already pretty much asleep, only her subconscious mind hearing the small noise. Booth took off his jacket and draped it back over the back of the couch, taking his dress shoes off so he was only left in the striped socks he was wearing, making sure he didn't make a lot of noise making his way to the bedroom where he figured Brennan was either lying awake or sleeping, since she wasn't out in the open. He opened the bedroom door quietly, clicking the lamp on quietly before he slid into bed with her, suit and all, and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, cradling her to his body.

"Mmm," Brennan made a small noise when she was pulled out of her unconscious state.

Normally, if someone snuck up on her and grabbed her in her sleep, she would have freaked out, especially since the Villeda incident, but she knew it was Booth, considering, she knew her partner's touch all too well.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into her hair, once he was sure she was awake, "I'm sorry, baby."

Brennan shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she whispered sleepily.

"I shouldn't have ran off like that," Booth told her, honestly, "that was a coward move."

"You're not a coward,"she promised, "I initiated the fight."

"It doesn't matter who started it," he shook his head, holding her close, pressing his cheek against hers, "I shouldn't have walked out on you."

"It doesn't matter," she mumbled.

Booth paused, inhaling the scent of her hair deeply through his nose.

"What makes me any better than Sully or your father?"

"You came back," she explained quietly, "they didn't. Not in a reasonable time frame at least."

Booth chuckled half heartedly against her hair.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing her head softly.

"I know. I love you too," she craned her neck to look behind her and into his eyes, staying quiet for only a few seconds before she changed the subject, "I'm going to talk to Robert tomorrow."

"I'll come with you," Booth offered.

"No," Brennan quickly made sure he knew there was no way he was going with her, "I can handle this, Booth. I don't need you there."

"You need protection," he told her.

"No, I don't. I can handle this."

Booth let out a long huff, feeling as if they were on shaky ground now, and just the smallest argument could blow everything up again. So he refrained from saying anymore on the subject, just kissing the top of her head again.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Brennan groaned in aggravation.

"There's nothing to talk about. You're not coming. I don't need a babysitter."

Booth huffed and unwrapped his arms from around her waist, turning over onto his back. He placed his forearm over his eyes, able to hear the shifting of the sheets as Brennan turned over onto her back as well.

"Something's wrong," he said plainly, his tone indicating his concern, "with us. Things haven't felt right lately. Not since..."

He let his voice trail off, not wanting to say the dreaded 'M' word.

"I know," Brennan admitted quietly, taking a long pause, "maybe, we should talk to Sweets," she waited for a response, her heart feeling heavy when she didn't get one. She placed her hand gently on his shoulder, speaking in a low voice, "Booth. I don't want to lose you."

He wanted to promise her that she wasn't going to, but, the way things had been going lately, he wasn't entirely sure if he could make that promise, which concerned him.

"Booth?" She asked.

"We'll talk to Sweets," he finally responded to her previous suggestion.

Brennan felt her lip tremble as she tried to hold in her sob. Booth was quietly laying with his arm over his eyes, his cold exterior melting when he heard her sniff and whimper slightly. Removing his arm from his eyes, he turned over onto his side to look at her.

"Why are you crying?" He asked, softly.

"Because I don't want to lose you," she repeated, "and I feel like I'm about to."

"You're not going to lose me," Booth assured her, wrapping his arm back around her waist to pull her close, using the back of his hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks, "I promise."

Brennan tucked her head into his chest, closing her eyes as she just let him hold her close. She trusted him, and she trusted that he wasn't going to let her down when he told her she wasn't going to lose him, because, losing him was not an option.


	83. Some Things Take Priority Over Others

**A/N: Thank you all for the feedback you've been giving =] And I'm sorry it's been a little bit since I updated anything. I was trying to figure something out, plot wise, between the two stories I'm working on (I can't really say any more about it without giving it away xD) but 'Come Clean' will more than likely be updated soon too, if you're reading that as well. =] Anyway, go on and read. **

Chapter Eighty-Three:

"Some Things Take Priority Over Others"

When Brennan first felt herself wake up, she was afraid to open her eyes. Somewhere inside, she wished she could just stay asleep all day, simply to avoid having to confront Booth after everything that happened the night prior. She wasn't really sure if anything was resolved before they both fell asleep. Sure, she slept cuddled up with him, falling asleep to the feeling of him stroking her hair and whispering in her ear, but things were much worse than ever before only a few minutes before that, so she wasn't entirely sure.

Reaching over to search for her partner, Brennan was surprised when she only felt cool sheets under her hand, turning over to see that the other side of the bed was empty and unmade. She stood up and stretched, making her way out to the kitchen where she found him reading the newspaper, much more still and calm than she had ever seen him.

"Hi," she greeted nervously, pulling his attention away from the newspaper in front of him.

She hated being nervous around him. It was Booth, for God sakes. But after their fight the night prior, she couldn't help but feel nervous. She couldn't help but fear that their relationship wouldn't be the same after that.

"Good morning," he smiled an infamous Seeley Booth charm smile, setting the paper down on the table, "sleep okay?"

Brennan was pleasantly surprised by his warmness.

"I woke up a few times," she shrugged, "but other than that I slept fine."

She took a coffee cup out of the cabinet and made her way to the pot, making herself a cup before she joined Booth at the table, taking a seat next to him. It was quiet for the first couple minutes, as he read over the newspaper and she sipped her coffee, but then, Brennan decided to finally speak once more.

"I'm going to talk to Robert Wilson today," she said, nonchalantly.

There was a long pause.

"I know," Brennan could tell that he was trying his best to keep his tone light.

"I don't want you to come with me when I speak to him," she reminded him.

"I know, Bones," the irritation showed just a little more with that statement.

"I'm just making sure," she rolled her eyes, feeling the tension build once again, mentally cursing herself for making the stupid comment.

Things were going smoothly until she brought up Robert Wilson, and she wished there was a way she could just rewind and stop herself from mentioning it. Knowing that wasn't possible, she simply stood up and stepped behind the chair he was in, placing her hands on his shoulders and rubbing gently, able to feel some of the tension release. She paused when he made a small noise, indicating his comfort.

"Good?" She asked, rolling her knuckles over his shoulder.

"Amazing," he told her, taking his left hand off the newspaper to gesture with it, "a little to the right," he sighed when she found the spot, "mmm, right there. Perfect."

Brennan kissed the back of his neck softly, her plans to get him to relax and forget about the Robert Wilson incident proving to be effective.

"Want to do Wong Fu's tonight?" She asked, keeping her voice a low whisper in his ear, "spend some alone time together? Just get away from everything and everyone for a night?"

"Until Rebecca drops Parker off because of an emergency," he laughed bitterly, referring to how they were always interrupted when they tried to spend some quality time together, "or until Zack calls to say he found evidence on the Wilson kids. Or until Robert sends you another bouquet of flowers."

"Well no need to look at the negatives," she laughed lightly, "it could also turn out that we have a nice, enjoyable, dinner, then go home and make passionate love until three in the morning," she smiled, leaning over his shoulder to kiss his cheek softly, "you don't know these things until they happen, Seeley. Too many variables."

"Did you just call me Seeley?" He asked, slightly amused.

"I've called you Seeley before," she shrugged.

"Yeah, only in bed, or when I'm getting yelled at. You never just call me Seeley in casual conversation."

"Do you like it?" She asked.

Booth took a minute to think about it before coming to a conclusion. No, he didn't like it. Even though most people would think calling your boyfriend by his last name was odd, he had always been Booth to her. Hearing her call him Seeley just sounded wrong.

"No," he responded honestly, "not really."

"Oh," Brennan was a little surprised by his answer, "I know I don't necessarily like Temperance because when you call me by my first name it usually indicates your annoyance," she paused, recalling a few other times he'd called her Temperance, "either that or you're extremely aroused. I know you usually call me Temperance when I-"

"Alright, Bones, enough dirty talk," he laughed awkwardly, "don't have time for a cold shower before work."

"I'm sorry, do you have an erection?" She peeked over his shoulder to look at the side of his face, noticing his cheeks flush.

"No!" She half smiled, amused at how flustered he got when it came to things like that, "I-I don't even know what would possess you to ask me that."

"I just like watching your reactions to sex questions," she admitted, a small, mischievous smile on her face.

"Oh you are so going to pay for that," he laughed, standing up and turning to face her, grabbing her wrists gently.

"Booth," she laughed, attempting to shake her wrists out of his hands, "I'm an anthropologist, observing is kind of what I do. It's perfectly normal and acceptable to want to observe someone's reactions to certain things."

"Well good. Now that I have your approval, I'd like to see how you react to this."

Without any warning, Booth bit her earlobe gently, causing her to gasp and shiver.

"Usual reaction," he observed, moving to kiss the outer shell of her ear.

"This is a nice experiment," she mumbled, after a few seconds, biting her bottom lip gently to contain the sounds that were trying to escape her throat, "although I think it should be resumed later, considering we have to wait until tonight to conduct the entire thing."

"You know," he pulled away to look her in the eyes, "work can wait."

"You sound like Angela," she laughed, closing her eyes when he left gentle kisses over her face, "and you're very good at that."

"I've been told," the cocky tone of his voice was apparent, as he kissed the tip of her nose softly, "you wanna know what else I'm good at?"

Before Brennan could respond her phone, which was set on the table, was ringing.

"Or, the phone can start ringing, like it always does," Booth muttered, letting go of her wrists to give her the freedom to get her phone, "damn work."

Groaning in frustration Brennan grabbed her phone off the table and looked at the caller ID, in order to see if it was someone she could just ignore and call back later. As much as they both hated the fact that their phones were constantly ringing, they knew it just came with the job.

"It's Angela," she told him, "it might be important."

"By all means," he gestured towards the phone.

"Brennan," she took her partner's hand and placed it on her waist in a silent signal, listening to Angela on the other end.

"Sweetie, I don't mean to bother you again, but Robert Wilson's back. He said he has to talk to you. I know I keep calling you to tell you he's here, but he's just, acting a little strange. He said it's very important that he talk to you now."

"Yes, make sure he stays," Brennan told her, laughing lightly when Booth's breath tickled her ear, "I'll be there shortly. I told him to come today."

"Oh," Angela sounded relieved, pausing when she heard a laugh and a small noise from the other end of the phone, "are you okay, Bren?"

"I'm fine," Brennan laughed again, when he ghosted his lips over the side of her neck, "Booth is just trying to get under my pants."

"_Into_ your pants," Booth corrected her in a murmur, kissing along the line of her jaw.

"Whatever," Brennan addressed him quickly before returning her attention back to Angela.

"Did you just actually give me a sort of minor, unnecessary detail about you and Booth?" Angela asked, only half kidding with her surprise, "Oh, sweetie, how you're evolving."

"Yeah, that's great, Ange," she brushed off the comment, "But I really should hang up and get dressed so-Booth!" She cut herself off when he found a sensitive spot, "I-I have to go, Angela."

"No, wait, Bren, if you're about to get some from Studly then don't come in. Take your time. Some things take priority over others."

"Angela, Booth and I can engage in intercourse later," Brennan heard her partner groan in irritation against her skin in response to the bluntness of her remark, "this isn't something that can really wait. Robert and I need to speak as soon as possible."

"But-"

"Okay, great, thanks, I knew you'd understand," she stuttered having to pause her quick, rambling words to moan softly, "o-okay, I really have to go, bye Ange."

"Brenna-"

Brennan shut her phone when Angela was in the middle of speaking, tossing it back onto the table before she pushed her boyfriend away from her gently by the shoulder.

"You can not do that while I'm on the phone," she scolded him, "I don't mind the kissing, but none of that."

"Simmer down, Bones" Booth laughed, "all I did was blow in your ear. Honestly, I wasn't even trying to be sensual. I was just trying to tickle you."

"Well don't do it again."

"What ever you say," he smiled charmingly, waiting a few seconds before he changed the subject, fearing that they'd just start to fight all over again when he brought it up, "are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

"I'm positive," she told him, keeping her voice soft, "I just think if you came it would make things worse, do you understand?"

"No."

"Robert Wilson, he really isn't very fond of you," Brennan tried to study his expression, "honestly, he doesn't like you at all. I think if you came nothing would be solved. He'd probably just shut down and refuse to tell me anything."

Booth understood where she was coming from, but was still feeling wary about it. She was going to meet up with someone who was stalking her, alone, and that made him a little uneasy.

"I don't want you alone with him," he admitted.

"Booth, I'm twice his age, I don't think he'll be able to overpower me."

"Age has nothing to do with it, Bones. You know that as well as I do. And if you don't then you really do need me to come with you."

"He's harmless, Booth!" Brennan complained, "he's a fifteen year old child. He's hurt and he's afraid. He just grew attached to me, he likes me. You're just being paranoid."

"He just likes you?" Booth was surprised by how lightly she was taking this, "Bones, come on. I like Halle Berry, but I don't follow her around and send her flowers."

"I don't know who that is."

"The point is, when you like someone, you don't find out where they live and send them little love notes. That's what's known as, creepy."

"This is why I don't want you coming with me," she crossed her arms over her chest, "you're just going to insult him instead of trying to explain to him why he can't do things like this. He's going through a hard time. You have to be gentle."

Normally, the roles in this situation would be reversed with the two of them. Booth would be telling Brennan she had to be gentle and considerate, but, he didn't feel like there was any reason he should have to be nice to the kid that was obsessed with his girlfriend. Regardless of whether he was going through a hard time or not, he was fifteen, old enough to know that you aren't supposed to stalk people.

"I'll tell you what, Bones, go alone, but if he does anything, if he even breathes on you, I want to know about it, because, if he tries anything..." he stopped himself before he could go any further, "just be careful, alright?"

"Okay," she tried her best to hide the irritation in her voice.

Booth leaned down to kiss her softly, feeling her relax slightly under his lips. After breaking the soft lip lock, he cupped her cheek gently.

"You know I'm only doing this because I love you."

"I know," Brennan assured him, "but I need you to trust me. Trust that I'm able to handle things on my own. I don't need you fighting my battles for me."

"I know, baby," he kissed her cheek, "I just feel like I need to protect you."

"You don't," she assured him, "and the next time you call me baby I'm breaking your wrist."

"Violent," he commented, "ever considered therapy?"

"You're hilarious."

"Yeah, I'm a pretty funny guy."

They smiled at each other before Brennan slipped out from in front of him and went to go get dressed, getting ready to go confront the source of she and Booth's recent problems.

* * *

When Brennan walked into her office, she, all of the sudden, was nervous. When Robert looked at her, he didn't look like the same innocent kid she saw the day prior, but she knew that was probably just because she knew things about him now that she didn't know then.

"Wow, Temperance," he sounded pleased to see her, "you look, pretty."

Brennan didn't sit on her couch that day, and didn't invite him to join her. She wanted to keep her distance, make this brief.

"Robert, we need to talk."

"We do need to talk," he agreed, "I, don't understand why you lied to me yesterday."

"I beg your pardon?" She was confused by his words.

"You told me you weren't dating Agent Booth, but I saw you at the diner last night and you were holding hands," he looked at her, studying her confused expression, "it looked a lot more than friendly."

Brennan sighed, shaking her head, not responding to his comments.

"How do you know where I live?" She cut right to the chase.

Robert was a little surprised by her bold approach.

"You said you had to go pick something up from home yesterday so I hailed a cab and followed you," he paused when he saw the look of concern on her face, "just so I could send you flowers. I know daffodils are you favorite, I looked you up online. Did you like them?"

"You can't follow people back to their houses, Robert," Brennan shook her head, never answering whether she liked the flowers or not, "and you can't follow people to the diner either and spy on them. That's considered stalking."

"No, no, of course not," Robert was the one to shake his head this time, "of course I'm not stalking you, Temperance, I just thought, after what we shared yesterday-"

"We had a discussion. That's all."

"You know it was more than that," he accused, "I, I think I might be in love with you," he took a small step closer to her when he saw her pupils dilate in fear, "Temperance, I know it might sound strange to you, but, you and I are kind of perfect for each other. Talking to you is easy for me, and I've never had that with anyone else. Give it a chance, that's all I'm asking."

"You're fifteen, Robert. That would be completely inappropriate."

"Don't even try that. Age doesn't mean anything."

"I agree that a few years is irrelevant, but I'm twice your age. And even putting all of that aside," she paused, softening her tone, "I'm with Booth, and I love him."

Robert shook his head, looking at the carpet in her office.

"No," he said, feeling slightly distressed, "he is not good enough for you."

"He's a good man, and he loves me. He'd die for me."

"Temperance, you were a foster child. You were treated terribly your entire life. You deserve to be with someone who'll treat you the way you deserve. Agent Booth doesn't treat you right, he thinks he's better than you."

"That's not true," Brennan defended her partner, "Booth doesn't think he's better than me. In fact, he thinks very lowly of himself."

"He wears a belt buckle that says 'cocky'," Robert arched and eyebrow in confusion, "he doesn't seem very modest to me."

"That's not what this is about," Brennan shook her head, seeing that this was straying away from the original topic and turning into a conversation about Booth, "Robert, all I came to do was tell you that you have to back off, and I'm sorry if that sounds harsh, but it's the only way I can put it right now. We'll never be together. I'm too old for you, and I'm in a monogamous relationship. So, please, just cut it out. For your own sake."

"For my own sake?" Robert asked, laughing bitterly, "What am I gaining from this?"

"I'm just giving you a fair warning, because if you don't back off, Booth will find you, and there'll be nothing I can do about that."

"Are you threatening me?" He asked, in disbelief.

"No, the opposite," she assured him, "I don't want you to get hurt, but if you keep this up, confessing your love for me, sending me flowers, and following me around, Booth will find you, and, more than likely, hurt you, because he'd feel like he was protecting me."

"Well if he's that rash then I think he's the one you should need protecting from."

Brennan shook her head.

"He loves me, Robert. He would never do anything to hurt me."

Robert sighed and put his head in his hands.

"We'd be perfect together," he mumbled, unsure of how he wanted to process Brennan's rejection, especially after the day prior, when she shared her past with him and comforted him. He honestly thought there was something there. "Can, you sleep on it?"

Brennan bit her lip, feeling terrible for hurting him like this, but she knew it had to be done.

"I don't need to sleep on it. I've made my decision," she untied her jacket from around her waist and replaced it with her lab coat, getting herself prepared to start working, "I'm sorry, Robert, but I need you to leave. I'm going to continue to examine the bones of your siblings."

Without saying a word, the fifteen year old walked out of her office, his eyes never leaving the floor when he did. Brennan knew he was harmless, and that he honestly just had feelings for her and wasn't trying to be creepy when he sent her the flowers. So she made sure that Booth would never find out about any of this, knowing that if he did, things would just become worse than they needed to be.


	84. You're Keeping Up

**A/N: As usual, thank you all for the feedback. =] Sorry this A/N is so short, but I'm really tired. Just wanted to make sure you all know how much I appreciate you taking the time to review, add to your favorites or alerts, or even just read, if you're a lurker. =]**

Chapter Eighty-Four:

"You're Keeping Up"

"How'd it go with Little Boy Loony?"

"Booth..."

Brennan took a bite of her food, sitting at the bar of Wong Fu's with her partner. So far, it was going nicely. They'd both agreed to shut their phones off for the night, making sure there was no distractions, and Booth figured maybe this was exactly what they needed to get back on track. Maybe they'd been fighting so much lately because they hadn't been spending this kind of quality time with one another.

"Okay, okay," Booth stopped himself from making any more sarcastic comments, "how did things go with Robert Wilson?"

Brennan took a minute to think before she opened her mouth, not wanting to say anything that she would regret. But, she figured, maybe it wouldn't hurt if she told him. Maybe he wouldn't completely lose his mind if she told him from the start.

"Fine," she shrugged, sipping on her drink and clearing her throat before she spoke again, "well, I mean, he's in love with me."

She glanced over at him when she heard him chuckle, seeing that he was smiling and laughing, as if this were all amusing. Definitely not the reaction she was expecting.

"I don't understand why you're laughing."

"Because," Booth chuckled, "it's just funny that some dumb ass kid thinks he's in love with a woman who's twice his age and who he's only met, what? Twice?"

"Three times, including today," she corrected, "and he's just fragile right now. I'm sure once he's finished grieving, and things go back to normal, he'll realize that he's being irrational."

"Or maybe he really is in love with you," he teased, "maybe next he'll write you a poem."

"Booth, stop," she tried to sound stern, but couldn't help but laugh at his playful tone, "it shouldn't be funny."

"Oh, Bones, come on, lighten up a little," he nudged her gently with his elbow, causing her to look over at him, "he's fifteen. He's barely hit puberty, and he thinks he's in love with you."

"He also thinks you treat me like garbage and that one day you're going to strike me in a fit of rage," she saw the confused look was over his face and quickly corrected herself, "his words, not mine, paraphrased of course."

"I figured," he watched her as she ate, "hey," he grabbed her attention away from her food, "do you think I'd ever hit you? Or do anything to hurt you, you know, physically?"

"Booth!" She was surprised by the question, "No, of course not!"

"Alright," he chuckled at how frantic she was, "I was just making sure you weren't taking anything he said to heart, that's all."

"I trust what I know more than what Robert says," she assured him, taking a short pause to take a bite of her rice, "and you're not going to kill him, right?"

"No," Booth promised, "not yet at least. As tempting as it is."

"Booth..."

"Bones, you know why I'm a little put off. If someone was obsessed with _me_, following me around and confessing their love for me, telling me you weren't good enough for me, you'd be annoyed too."

"I know," Brennan admitted, "I guess it's just, different, because Robert's so young, and he's going through a hard time," she glanced up at her partner, "please just, if we ever have to talk to him again, about something pertaining to the case, just take it easy on him."

"If we ever have to talk to him again I might just have to stick you two in the interrogation room and wait outside," he admitted, receiving a disapproving look from her, "baby, I'm trying. I really am. But I'm not sure if I'd be able to be civil to him after all of this."

"I understand," Brennan nodded, willing to let him have this one.

Booth turned his head to look at her again, a puzzled look on his face.

"Really? That's all?" He asked, their eyes meeting, "no bickering? No fighting?"

"Well our objective for the day was to try and repair our relationship," she shrugged, "I'm just making it easier."

Booth half smiled at her, placing his hand gently over the one she had resting against the bar.

"You can't fix something that was never broken."

Brennan was the one to look confused now.

"But, you said last night-"

"I said something was wrong, not that our relationship needed to be repaired," he laughed when he saw how lost she looked, "nothing about us is broken, Bones. We have ups and downs, everyone does. But I'd never let something so stupid ruin my relationship with the woman I want to spend my life with."

Brennan paused, feeling a nervous fluttering in her stomach.

"You, want to spend your life with me," she whispered, feeling the blush creep onto her cheeks, as Booth gave her hand a gentle, reassuring, squeeze.

"You know that," he smiled, lacing their fingers together.

"I know, but, hearing it in words," she paused, feeling slightly idiotic, "it makes it real."

Booth leaned over to kiss her cheek softly, laughing lightly against her warm skin.

"I know, it sounds foolish."

"No it doesn't. I never thought I'd say this, but stop being so self conscious."

Brennan smiled when he tucked her hair behind her ear, pressing his forehead to hers.

"I-"

"Aw, hey, look!" Brennan closed her eyes and whined in frustration when she heard the last voice she really wanted to hear at that moment, "Brennan and Booth are here too."

"Please tell me I'm just hearing things," Booth whispered to her, seeing her shake her head, never opening her eyes when she did.

Huffing, he pulled away from her, sitting back up straight and letting go of her hand. He felt a hand against his shoulder as the person took a seat next to him.

"What a surprise," he turned away from Brennan to force a smile to the woman on the other side of him, "it's Angela," he paused and glanced up to see the woman's boyfriend, with his hands on her shoulders, "and Hodgins."

"We didn't know you two would be here," Angela sounded pleasantly surprised when she spoke, "you two on a hot date?"

"Just, rekindling the old flame," Booth shrugged.

"Rekindling?" Hodgins asked, "It hasn't even been a year, and you already need rekindling? Angie and I haven't needed to rekindle yet, and we've been together longer than you two. And Wong Fu's, of all places? No fancy restaurants or anything?"

"Listen, Hodgins, you're reading too far into this," Booth held up a hand in a silent signal for him to stop, "Bones and I just had a misunderstanding, but we're good now," he glanced at Brennan and smiled, "we just needed to come to dinner and set things right. You know, spend some quality time together."

He hoped using the words 'quality time' would give them the silent signal that they really weren't up to having company at the moment.

"Great, I'm glad it's all worked out," they realized Angela had no intentions on moving, "if you guys are all patched up then I'm sure you wouldn't mind Hodgins and I hanging out for a while."

"Oh, of course not," Booth lied, "you know, the more the merrier."

Brennan arched an eyebrow in confusion and leaned to whisper in her partner's ear.

"Why did you just lie to them?" She asked, her closeness and the sounds of the restaurant around them making it so only he could hear.

"Because it's the polite thing to do," he whispered back, "in a little while we'll just tell them we have to leave and we'll head back home."

"I was kind of enjoying this though," Brennan told him.

"I'll tell you what," he took her hand again "Friday I'm taking you on a real date, after work. You know, fancy restaurant, rose petals, red wine, the whole nine yards."

"That isn't necessary, Booth," she assured him.

"No, it isn't, but I want to," he smiled charmingly, "and besides, I still owe you a date from when we had to leave Colorado early."

"That's right, you do," her voice was more playful now, "you better get on that."

Booth laughed and shook his head.

"Smart ass," he saw her smile, as if it were a compliment.

"What are you two whispering about?" Angela interrupted their quiet conversation.

"Nothing," Brennan quickly leaned away from him, looking over at her friend, then up at Hodgins, suddenly recalling the phone call she and Angela had only a few days prior, "um, I need to use the restroom. Ange, will you come with me?"

Angela looked at her skeptically, knowing that something was up.

"Um, alright," she said, warily, grabbing her clutch purse off the counter and standing up, following her friend into the bathroom.

Brennan stood in front of the sink, making no motions to go towards a stall, and turned to Angela, noticing the look of confusion on her face.

"What?" Angela asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I thought Hodgins was cheating on you and you were angry with him?"

Angela laughed.

"We settled it," she said, "he wasn't cheating on me. He was planning something for our anniversary. I confronted him, and he told me he didn't want to ruin the surprise, but he didn't want me thinking he was unfaithful either, so he just told me the basics of what we're doing," she paused, a radiant smile on her face, "you know, Bren, I'm really happy."

"Because Hodgins isn't cheating on you?" Brennan asked.

"Yes," Angela nodded, the smile remaining on her face, "I really love him, and I'm really glad that he isn't sneaking around, and that he loves me back the same way. Things are going great with us recently, and, I'm just, over the moon."

"I'm, happy for you. I'm glad things are going so well between you and Hodgins," Brennan said, although her voice indicated that she was a little uneasy. She was happy for Angela, but she couldn't help but feel just a little jealous of the smoothness of her relationship, especially when things were the way they were between her and Booth. "Things between Booth and I are not very good right now."

Angela suddenly felt guilty for boasting about how great she and Hodgins' relationship was, not knowing that Brennan and Booth were going through a rough patch.

"Sweetie, I'm sorry," she apologized, "what's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing, I shouldn't have brought it up," Brennan shook her head, not wanting to push her relationship issues onto Angela, "it's petty. Nothing to be concerned about."

"No, come on, Bren, you know I'm here for you," Angela urged her.

Brennan took a deep breath, crossing her arms over her chest, feeling slightly uncomfortable discussing all of this, even if it was with her best friend.

"To shorten a long story, a few days ago, Booth asked me to marry him, I said no, and things haven't been very well since then," she bit her lip when Angela's mouth fell slightly agape, "it's not a big deal, we've just, been fighting more often than not lately, but, we're trying to patch things up, and it seems to be working."

"Sweetie, you told Booth you didn't want to marry him. It's going to take a little more than a few jokes and dinner at Wong Fu's to fix this," she told her, honestly, "when I spoke to you on the phone this morning, you two seemed to be getting along."

"Yes, things have been okay today, but, last night, for a little while, I almost started packing my things," she uncrossed her arms and tugged nervously at the bottom of her shirt, "I honestly thought it was over. I didn't think it could be salvaged."

"What could have been so bad that you didn't think it could be fixed?"

"I don't know, Ange. I called him selfish, he told me I needed to join the real world, we just, had a really bad fight, and Booth actually left for a while. I wasn't exactly sure what was going to happen when he came back."

"And, everything's good now?"

"We're working on it."

Angela was quiet, completely caught off guard by Brennan's confession.

"Wow," was all she could say, running her fingers through her hair, "if there's anything you want me to do-"

"There's nothing you can do," Brennan assured her, "we're okay. Well, as okay as we're going to get for now. We'll be back to normal in a few days. We just need a couple days to adjust, that's all."

"Are you sure?" Angela asked.

"I'm positive. Now we should probably go back out there."

"Right, wouldn't want Booth and Hodgins thinking we snuck out through the window."

Angela opened the bathroom door, holding it open for Brennan as they walked out together.

"I don't know about Hodgins, but I'm pretty sure Booth wouldn't think any such thing."

"It was a joke, honey," Angela touched her boyfriend's shoulder when they met back up with them, "hey, sexy."

"Hey, beautiful," Hodgins turned to face her, kissing her softly when she leaned down to press her lips to his, "you smell like roses today."

Angela laughed and kissed him again.

"I smell the same as I always do."

Brennan, feeling she was interrupting something by standing there while her friends acted all romantic, took her seat back next to her partner, reaching over to take his hand. When he turned his head to look at her, she snuck a kiss onto his cheek, a small smile on her face. Smiling back, Booth smoothed a hand over her shoulder, leaning in to speak quietly to her.

"Ready to get out of here?" He asked.

Brennan simply nodded, lacing their fingers back together, the way they were earlier than night before Angela and Hodgins barged into their quality time. Booth patted Hodgins on the shoulder when they stood up together, causing him to jump and look up at him.

"We're gonna get going," he told him, giving Angela a nod as well, "good seeing you guys."

"You guys aren't going to stick around for dessert?" Hodgins asked.

"Baby, they're about to go have sex, don't be a spoil sport," Angela hit her fiancé playfully in the arm, looking up at Brennan to wink at her, seeing her get noticeably flustered at her friend's comment, "have fun, sweetie."

"Okay, we will," Brennan was pulling on his hand, trying to get them out of there as quickly as possible, completely embarrassed by her friend's words, "I mean, not the sex thing, we're just, going to have fun, what ever we're doing. Because we're, not doing that."

Angela smiled and nodded, saying a small 'okay'.

"What ever you say," she smiled, watching as her friend practically dragged her boyfriend through the door of Wong Fu's and back to his SUV.

* * *

Brennan only realized she was panting when she felt her partner nuzzle the skin of her stomach softly, causing her to look down, her breath catching in her throat.

"Oh, God," she whispered, her fingers tangling in his hair, gently urging him lower.

"Ah, that's my name," he joked, "I almost forgot. Although, in a situation like this, Booth is fine. No need for the formality of 'God'."

"Stop talking," she whispered hoarsely, groaning in frustration when she felt him chuckle against her skin, "please, stop joking around," she drew in a harsh breath, her hands untangling from his hair to smooth down his shoulders, "just make love to me."

Booth moved back up her body to look into her eyes, smoothing her hair down gently.

"You know, you're very pushy today," he observed, kissing her neck gently.

"I want you," she purred, scratching her nails gently down his back.

"I can see that, baby, but I'm trying to take my time here, and you're making that very difficult," he leaned up to kiss the tip of her nose, "and before you hit me, or break my wrist, the 'baby' thing was just a slip up."

"I don't care," her voice was desperate, as she took his hand and moved it up to the material of her bra, "make love to me."

"Bones, you have to slow down," he told her, moving his hand and tracing his fingers carefully down her neck, "we fought last night. I don't want to rush anything right now, okay?"

"Okay," she reluctantly agreed, scattering kisses over his shoulders and collarbone, "you know what's best. You're better at all of this than I am."

"You're keeping up," he assured her.

Brennan smiled gratefully, having a feeling that he was only saying that to make her feel better, but not making an issue of it.

"Booth?" She asked, when he buried his face back into the crook of her neck.

"Yes?" He mumbled against her skin.

Brennan tugged gently on his hair to get him to look into her eyes.

"I, love you," she said quietly, unsure as to why the three words were making her nervous all of the sudden.

Booth smiled at her, tracing his hands down her waist and back up again.

"I love you too," he promised, and for the first time in the past two days, she felt as if he actually meant it.


	85. I Don't Know If I'm Quite Ready Yet

**A/N: Hello everyone. =] This chapter is actually very short, so I apologize. **

**I kind of just wrote this one as an introduction to 'The Thing', which you will find out more about soon. (I kind of just wanted to see if you guys could guess what it was first, which you probably can, since I didn't make it all that challenging to piece together xD) and for a little B&B fluff, since I was in the mood to be fluffy today. =] **

**So, enjoy. And go ahead and leave predictions on 'It', if you want. **

Chapter Eighty-Five:

"I Don't Know if I'm Ready Quite Yet"

"Sweetie!" Brennan bit her lip when Angela squealed, pleading with her eyes for her to settle down, "Oh my...why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"It all just kind of, came together, this morning, and can you please keep your voice down?" She pled, "I don't want the entire lab knowing. I'm telling you this in confidence."

Brennan had been nervous that morning going into work, 'The Thing' possessing her every thought. She knew the only person she could tell was Angela.

"Brennan, I just can't, I just, wow," Angela struggled to find the words, just smiling brightly at her friend, "did Booth totally lose it? He must be over the moon."

"I didn't talk to him about it yet, which is why I'm asking you, as my best friend, to please keep this a secret."

Angela's jaw dropped.

"You are planning on telling him, like, soon, right?" She asked.

"Of course," Brennan assured her, "he has just as big a role in this as I do."

"Obviously."

"I'm going to tell him very soon, he's going to be the next to know, just, not yet," she looked at Angela, biting her bottom lip nervously, "I'm begging you, Ange, don't say anything to anyone. I'm just waiting until I process all of this before I start sharing with everyone."

"You should at least tell Booth," Angela advised her, "he's going to be upset if he finds out you told me before him."

"Which is why you're not going to say anything."

"You have my word, Bren."

"Good," Brennan nodded in satisfaction, quickly looking to change the subject, "so, is there, um, anything you wanted to tell me about the Wilson children?"

"No," Angela's voice indicated her confusion, "you're the one who came here to talk to me, about the, you know..."

"Yes," Brennan shook her head, "I, should get back to work. Thank you for allowing me to talk to you about, that. I needed to get it off my metaphorical chest."

"You don't have to thank me, sweetie," Angela pulled her friend into a comforting hug, "whenever you need to talk, I'm here for you."

"Okay," Brennan felt a little more relaxed when her friend offered her the friendly hug, "I'm trusting you not to say anything, even to Hodgins."

"I know, I wouldn't do that to you. You know that."

"I just, find that I'm a little nervous," Brennan let go of her to look at her with sincerity in her eyes, "I don't know if I'm ready quite yet. And Booth..."

"Booth will be _happy_ Brennan, this is what he wants. And no one ever thinks they're ready," Angela laughed, "not that I would know, because," she cut herself off, not wanting to say the words and freak her out too much, "but I know people who have, and they were all nervous. It's normal."

"Okay," she said, even though she wasn't really feeling any better, "I should, get back to work."

Before Brennan could walk out of her office, Angela called her name, stopping her.

"Bren?" Brennan turned around, her hand still on the doorknob of the artist's office, "how did things go with Studly last night?"

"You were there. You saw that things went smoothly."

"I mean once you got home," Angela rolled her eyes at her how clueless she could be.

"Fine," she shrugged, keeping her response vague, "things went fine."

Angela placed her hands on her hips, not satisfied with the answer.

"Sex?"

"I, have work to do," Brennan's cheeks grew hot as she opened the door, attempting to escape before Angela could coax any details out of her.

"Oh, come on, Bren!" She complained, poking her head out of the door to shout to her "Don't be a buzz kill!"

Brennan simply pretended she couldn't hear her as she buttoned her lab coat back up and made her way back to the forensic platform, hoping that nobody could see the blush on her cheeks when she joined them to examine the remains.

* * *

Booth glanced up from the paperwork he was filling out to look at his partner, who had appeared in the doorway with coffee.

"Hey," he smiled, setting the papers down, "what are you doing here?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," she joined him, pulling up a chair next to his desk after setting his coffee down in front of him, "working late I see."

"Sully got the stomach flu, so I told him I'd help him out with some paperwork," Booth shrugged, "thanks for the coffee, by the way."

"Not a problem," she addressing the thanks quickly before getting back to the Sully subject, "and I thought you hated Sully? Why would you be helping him?"

"Because it looks good on my part," he paused when Brennan looked at him curiously, "listen, like it or not, Bones, Cullen is going to find out about us eventually, and I figured maybe if I start over achieving, he'll look past it when he finally does."

"Your logic is flawed," she told him, with a shake of her head.

"It's a stretch, I know, but I figured maybe, if we're lucky, it'll work."

Brennan simply shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee as she just watched him fill out paper after paper, looking immensely bored. They sat in silence for a few minutes, occasionally sipping on their coffee, before Booth spoke, simply trying to make some comical small talk.

"Want to come sit on my lap like a sexy secretary?" He asked, a small smile present on his face.

"That would be inadvisable," she told him, clearly not understanding the joking tone of his voice, "someone could walk in. And besides, someone with my credentials would more than likely never be a secretary."

Booth simply laughed and ignored her, changing the subject.

"Rebecca and I fought this morning," he told her.

"About Parker?"

"No, about the weather."

Brennan rolled her eyes at his sarcasm.

"What happened?"

Booth paused, setting his pen down to look at her seriously.

"Do you think I'm a crappy dad?" He asked, "Do you think Parker might feel, neglected?"

"No, to both of those questions," she answered, barely taking a second to think about it, "you love Parker, and he loves you back. Why are you even asking me this?"

"Because Rebecca thinks work might be taking up too much of my time," he rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, "I mean, even when he was with me this week work was crazy. I feel like I barely got to spend time with him."

"You're an adult, Booth. You have your priorities," she reminded him, "think of it this way, if you didn't work, you wouldn't be able to support Parker, which, in essence, is much more important than 'bonding time'. Parker's growing up. Pretty soon you'll be rather unnecessary."

"Thanks, Bones, that's exactly what I wanted to hear," his voice was sarcastic, as he huffed and put his head in his hands, "you're basically telling me to just keeping working because pretty soon Parker won't want or need a father."

"That's not what I meant," Brennan shook her head, "of course he's going to want a father. He loves you. He's your child. But he's going to be an adolescent male soon, and he will want, and need, his independence from you _and _Rebecca."

Booth took a minute to process her words, having to think them over and take them in.

"You know, I disagree with you about your whole 'procreating in multiples' theory," he told her simply, taking a sip of his coffee.

"You don't want any more kids?" She asked, thoroughly surprised by this.

"No I do, I mean, maybe, eventually, but that's not what I meant," he laughed awkwardly, "I just feel like if I had more than one kid, it would make the stress double, not less. That would be one more kid to worry if I'm parenting right," he smiled when she did, "if you ever decide you want kids, we're waiting until we're both retired."

"I might be menopausal by then," she warned, "we aren't exactly getting any younger."

"Tell me about it," he laughed, "lately when I've been waking up in the morning it sounds like the goddamn Fourth of July."

"You should see a chiropractor," she advised, looking up to see the 'don't start' look on his face, holding up her hands in a surrender, "just a suggestion."

"I don't need a glorified masseuse cracking my back for me," he told her, "besides, what if they kill me? Or put me in a wheelchair?"

"They're very well trained," she rolled her eyes, "you're paranoid."

"I'm not paranoid," he had to laugh, "I'm sure the people of the Shamalamadingdong tribe were fond of their legs too. Am I right, or am I right?"

"Those are the same question, and I've told you, there's no such thing as the Shamalamadingdong tribe. Unless you've encountered a tribe that I haven't, which is unlikely."

"It's a joke, Bones," he leaned over to kiss her cheek before they could start bickering again, keeping his face close to her ear so he could whisper to her, "I want you to come to church with me on Sunday."

"No," Brennan complained, pushing gently on his shoulder to push him back enough to look into his eyes, "I'm not Catholic."

"You don't have to be Catholic," he nudged her gently with his elbow, "come on, Bones, it would mean a lot to me."

"Why?" She asked, "You used to be very firm on the decision that you_ didn't _want me coming to church with you."

"I know, but, now that we're together," he paused unsure of what he wanted to say, "it would just be nice to have you with me, that's all. Me, you, and Parker, we could all go together. Like a nice little family trip."

"To church?" She wasn't fooled by the whole 'family trip' act, "Why don't we take Parker to the museum? Or the zoo?"

"Why are you so against this?" Booth asked, "Don't you want to like, observe the culture of Catholics, or something anthropological like that?"

"Because, Booth, I don't believe in God. I would probably be very awkward in church," she scowled when she saw him smile, obviously amused, "if your church friends find out I'm agnostic they'll probably shun me, therefor making it difficult to study them."

"Bullshit," he accused, followed by a light-hearted laugh, "you just don't want to go."

"That too."

"What if I promise to never mess with you again, ever, if you come with me?"

"That would never happen," she was the one to laugh now, pinching his cheek playfully, "and besides, I've grown accustom to you messing with me."

"Aw," he took her hand away from his cheek to kiss her palm softly, "you're cute."

"I hate that word," she reminded him, grasping the hand he was holding hers with to clutch it tightly in hers.

"I know, baby, that's why I said it."

"Booth you're about one more 'baby' away from getting kicked in the testicles."

"You wouldn't," he told her simply, "not because you love me or anything, but because that might mess with our sex life."

Brennan laughed.

"I have a question for you, Booth. Who do you love more? Me or God?"

"Bones," he warned.

"I'm only being humorous," she assured him, "you're afraid God will smite you if you answer that incorrectly."

"God doesn't smite people, Bones," he rolled his eyes, "listen, can we get back on the chiropractor subject before this turns into another religious debate?"

"You're the one that brought up church," she reminded him.

"Very true," he let her win on that one, "but how about we don't question my loyalty to God, alright?" Brennan smiled mischievously, causing him to smile back, seeing her intentions, "you know I love you, let's just leave God out of it, okay?"

"Fine," she reluctantly agreed, "but I'm going to need some concrete proof once we get out of here that you do, in fact, love me."

"I think that can be arranged," he pecked her lips softly, before turning his attention back to the paperwork, her 'need for proof' being his motivations to finish as soon as possible.


	86. It's Like Taking Off a Band Aid

**A/N: Hello. =] I actually got a chapter out two days in a row. I was kind of on a roll today, and kind of writing when I was supposed to be doing math homework (oops xD). But, anyways, here you go.**

**In this chapter we actually find out what 'The Thing' is (even though I think the majority of you guessed xD) and we get a little bit of fluff, a little bit of angst, all that good stuff. **

Chapter Eighty-Six:

"It's Like Taking Off a Band-Aid"

Brennan hardly payed attention to her partner placing gentle kisses over her bare back, her mind too absorbed in the book she was reading to notice. Booth, however, was still surprised that she was even reading in the first place, tucked under the blanket with him in their post coital moment. It felt like as soon as they were finished she grabbed her book off of the night stand.

"Bones," he hummed against her shoulder blade, attempting to grab her attention.

"What, Booth?" She asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"Teach me how to say something in another language."

"Te amo," she quickly threw out, just trying to get him to leave her be and let her read.

"I know that one already," he moved her hair to kiss the marks from the Gravedigger's stun gun softly, "teach me something else."

"Je t'aime," she tried again.

"I know that one too," he laughed lightly, "how about something other than 'I love you' in multiple different languages?"

"Déjame en paz."

Booth smiled against her skin, figuring she'd complimented him.

"What's that mean?"

"It's Spanish for 'leave me alone'."

He was a little taken back by the meaning of her words.

"Wow, someone's in a bad mood all of the sudden."

Brennan sighed and put her book down, laying it out to make sure she didn't lose her page as she craned her neck to look at him, touching his cheek gently and pressing a kiss to his lips.

"I'm sorry, I'm just, trying to read and you're making that nearly impossible."

Booth half smiled, letting her know she was forgiven. Reluctantly, he picked her book back up for her, allowing her to grab the edges, making her able to read again. He was only quiet for a few seconds, his chin resting against her shoulder as he skimmed over some of the words.

"Whatcha reading anyway?" He asked, curiously.

"A fiction," she answered, smiling when he nuzzled the spot behind her ear softly.

"What kind of fiction?" He asked, "Are you reading some romantic novel where some guy named Pierre comes in and sweeps the woman off her feet, takes her to bed, and makes sweets love to her for hours on end? And then they move to a country, raise cattle, and have seven kids?"

"You must have read this one already," she said, sarcastically.

"Yeah, you know me," he joked back with her, kissing her temple softly.

Brennan laughed lightly, continuing to read her book even as he kissed from her shoulders, to her neck, up to scatter kisses over her cheek.

"Let's make love," he whispered in her ear, stroking her shoulder gently.

"We just made love an hour ago," she reminded him with a small laugh, looking up at him in annoyance when her book was pulled out of her hands, "hey!" She complained, as he marked her page and set the book back on the night stand, "I was reading that, if that wasn't obvious, and the main character was just about to-"

She was cut off when his lips pressed back to hers. Barely even remembering what was going to happen in her book anymore, Brennan wrapped her arms around his neck, and they proceeded to round two without any further objections from the anthropologist.

* * *

"Baby, have you seen my red tie?" Booth looked out of the bathroom to see Brennan casually getting dressed, making it very clear that she was ignoring him.

Booth arched an eyebrow at her.

"Bones?"

"Yes?"

"Have you seen my red tie?"

"It's in the third drawer to the left," she told him, seeing him give her a confused look before going to get the tie, "I'm refusing to answer you when you call me that. It seems to be the only way to get you to stop."

Booth rolled his eyes playfully.

"You're impossible," he laughed, "I've never once met a woman who doesn't like being called baby."

"I'm not like most women," she reminded him.

"Very true."

Brennan paused as she buttoned her blouse up, smoothing it down when she was done. Last night, her mind had been off 'The Thing', since she had spent the majority of the night making love with Booth, but, this morning, her mind was back on 'It', and she couldn't shake it. 'It' was the only thing she could and would think about.

"Booth?" She asked, "When do you think you'll want more children?"

"In twenty years when I'm old, gray, and living on the beach," he told her, simply.

"I'm serious," she looked at him, the look on her face indicating her concern.

"I don't know, Bones," he laughed awkwardly, looking at her with a half smile, "why are you so concerned about it?" He paused, trying to read her expression, "Do you, want to have a baby? You seem very, focused on that subject lately."

"What?" Brennan was slightly flustered, caught off guard by the question, "no, I mean, yes," she stumbled over her words, unsure of what she wanted to say, "I don't know. Maybe, but, I don't know. Obviously you don't, so..."

She let her voice trail off, not sure how she wanted to finish that sentence.

"Bones," he laughed, touching her cheek gently "if you want a baby-"

"I don't," she cut him off, pulling away from his touch just a little, "I don't, okay? Just, forget I said anything."

"Are you sure?" He asked, warily.

"Yes, I'm positive," she told him, "it was just a question. I should have known you would read into it. Just, forget this whole conversation took place."

"Um, alright," Booth's voice was wary as he tied his tie with ease.

Brennan waited a few seconds before she spoke again, working to get her shoes on.

"Do you mind if I drive myself into work today?" She asked, since they usually drove in together, so they could stop and get something for dinner on the way home.

"Sure, I guess," he said, stepping in front of her and looking at her seriously once he was finished with his tie, "did I, do something? Because you seem like you're mad at me all of the sudden."

Brennan smiled, almost apologetically, as she tugged on his tie to bring his lips down to hers, pressing a tender kiss to his lips in an affectionate gesture.

"No," she promised, "I love you."

"Aw, that was out of no where," he laughed lightly, pleasantly surprised by the words of affection. Usually she didn't just throw out an 'I love you' for no reason. "I love you too."

Brennan wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself close to him, hugging him tightly as she buried her head in the crook of his neck.

"I'm meeting Angela for breakfast," she explained, her words muffled by the fabric of his shirt, "that's the only reason I want to drive myself into work."

"Ah," Booth chuckled, kissing her temple softly, "I see."

Reluctantly, Brennan let go of him taking a step back, since she knew if she didn't leave soon Angela would be waiting for her.

"Dinner tonight?" She asked, "Chinese take-out?"

"You got it," he kissed her cheek, "I shouldn't be working too late today, so maybe I'll be home by the time you are."

"Okay," she smiled, grabbing her keys from off the night stand, opening the bedroom door as she called over her shoulder, "don't start dinner without me."

* * *

The people talking throughout the diner just sounded like white noise to Brennan as she sat alone and ate quietly, looking at the people around her. There was a man in a suit speaking frantically on his cell phone while shoveling food into his mouth, two teenage boys laughing loudly, half eaten hamburgers on their plates, a couple, feeding one another and baby talking from across the table, another couple sitting, having a quiet conversation as they ate, kind of like she and Booth normally did, and a family with two children, one playing with a car, rolling it over the napkin holder and another eating pancakes with her fingers. She watched as the parents laughed and talked to the children, attempting to get the little girl to use her fork, and Brennan couldn't help but smile.

"Ready for that?" Angela's voice startled her out of her thoughts, as she sat across from her and gestured towards the children, who were now getting their faces cleaned with a wet napkin by their mother.

Brennan laughed weakly.

"I have a while to prepare for that," she told her, a small smile on her face, "and besides, it will not be that hectic with Booth and I."

"I don't know, sweetie," Angela's tone was playfully warning, "I feel like you and Booth's little rugrats will definitely be a handful," she laughed along with her friend this time, "I, personally, can not wait to have little Brennan-Booths running around D.C.."

"Singular," Brennan reminded her, "just one Brennan-Booth. Multiples are uncommon."

"Oh, please," Angela laughed, "once you have that kid in your home, you're going to want a house full. And I better be able to come over and play with him or her everyday."

"Booth doesn't want children," Brennan practically blurted out, seeing the confused expression fall upon her friend's face, "I was talking to him this morning, and he said he doesn't want any more children until he's," she paused, trying to recall his words, "old, gray, and living on the beach."

"Well, maybe he feels that way now, but, I'm sure he'll change his mind," Angela tried to be reassuring, knowing this was something that her friend was fearing from the beginning.

"I'm afraid to tell him now, Ange," Brennan told her, chewing on her bottom lip nervously, "I don't want to push this on him. I don't want him to feel like I'm ruining his life."

"I think this might be the hormones talking," Angela laughed, seeing that Brennan was not even cracking a smile at her little joke, "he loves you, he'd never feel like you were ruining his life," she paused, smiling and nudging Brennan with her elbow, "between you and me, I think he's a lot happier having you in his life. Ever since you two started knocking boots, he's been in a much better mood. He always just seems, content. And that's because of you."

"You don't know that," Brennan shook her head, "and the term 'knocking boots' sounds offensive. I'm not entirely sure why."

"Regardless, Bren, you need to tell him, as soon as possible."

"Why? Can I have one more month."

"No!" Angela laughed again, "Booth's not a stupid guy. He'll probably figure it out by then."

"I doubt it," she mumbled.

"Alright, this is what you need to do," Angela leaned forward a little bit, as if she were letting her in on some sort of secret, "if you're really that afraid to tell him because you think he'll be a little less than jumping for joy, you've got to shmooze him a little first."

"Shmooze?" Brennan asked, arching an eyebrow curiously.

"Yeah, you know, loosen him up a little," she shrugged, "give him a shot of Jack, rub his shoulders, tell him you love him, over and over, because you know how much he likes that, and then hit him with the 'and by the way, I'm pregnant'. It's fool proof."

"I'm not sure that would work," Brennan seemed doubtful, "and can you please not use the word 'pregnant'? It makes me very nervous."

"Fine, 'with child'," Angela rolled her eyes, "And of course it would work, he'd be feeling so relaxed and pampered that it would barely phase him. Men are simple like that."

"Maybe that would work with Hodgins, but Booth doesn't let things slip by."

"I'm telling you, it'll work. I don't care how highly evolved you think Booth is. He's a guy. And all guys are wired the same," Angela paused, a small smile on her face, "do you guys have any plans for tonight?"

"No, we're just relaxing. These past few days have been a little less than perfect."

"Good, then do it tonight."

Brennan's mouth opened slightly in surprise.

"No, Ange! I need more time to prepare!"

"The longer you wait, the harder it's going to get, Brennan. This isn't one of those things you can prepare for. It's like taking off a Band-Aid. Just do it quickly and get it over with."

Brennan crossed her arms over her chest nervously, glancing around the diner, as if she were looking for something to rescue her from all of this.

"I'm not doing it tonight," she settled the matter at hand, "maybe tomorrow."

"Brennan-"

"No, Angela, I'm sorry, but you don't understand," she held up her hand, signaling for her to stop, "I'm, scared, alright?" She finally admitted, for what may have been the first time in her life, that she was nervous about something.

"Of what?" Angela had to laugh, "What's the worst that could happen?"

"I...don't know," Brennan admitted, knowing that she was just acting irrationally. At least now she could blame it on the hormones. "He could, leave me, maybe."

Even Brennan knew that was never going to happen. She just wanted a defense.

"Yeah right," Angela snorted, "you really think he'd do that?"

"Maybe. He already has a child out of wedlock, and you see how that relationship worked out. What if he asks me to marry him again?"

"Then marry him," she looked at her seriously.

Brennan kept her arms crossed as she shifted in her seat.

"Now you're just being ridiculous," she muttered.

"Am I?" Angela gave her the 'are you kidding me?' look, "I don't see what your problem is. You can be so pigheaded. A sweet, _hot_, guy wants to _marry_ you, and you refuse. Usually it's girls crying that guys don't want to commit. And Booth? All he wants to do is get married and have a family. So many girls would kill to have a man like that."

"I don't see why everyone thinks it's so terrible that I don't want to hand myself over to a man," she rolled her eyes, still unsure why no one seemed to understand her objections to marriage, "he's asking me to give myself to him, make me his property. Take his name, live in his apartment, surrender the rest of my life to him. What's next? Is he going to want me to quit my job and just stay home as someone to produce offspring and cook him dinner?"

"Brennan, sweetie, you're looking too far into this," Angela was worried now, "he's not asking you to be his property. He wants to share his life with you because he loves you. He wants to-"

"Stake a claim on me?"

"No! He's just, the marrying type. He just wants to marry you."

"Well, I don't want to marry him," Brennan cut the conversation off sharply, standing up, not even realizing that neither of them ate any breakfast, the way they were intending to, "I should go get an early start at work."

"Bren, come on, I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't," Brennan lied. In reality, she was tired of everyone pushing her about this whole marriage thing. Booth, her father, and now Angela. "I just think I should go."

Angela was going to try and stop her, but figured there was no use arguing with her when she was like this.

"Alright, go ahead," she waved her off, her voice indicating her irritation.

Without turning around to acknowledge her, Brennan left the diner, knowing that it'd only be a little while before they were back to being best friends, not letting the little argument bother her.

* * *

"Booth, I'm really getting worried. Please call me when you get this."

Brennan hung up her phone and huffed, placing it back on the table. Booth was supposed to be home with the food a little over an hour prior. He told her that afternoon he'd be home around eight, it was now nine fifteen, and he wasn't answering his phone. Now, not only was she starving, but she couldn't help but wonder what he was doing. Where he was. If he was okay.

It was another fifteen minutes before she heard keys rattling in the door, letting out a sigh when he came inside, not holding the Chinese food she was expecting. But she quickly pushed her irritation about the lack of food aside when she saw the solemn look on his face, and how red his eyes were, as if he'd been crying.

"Booth?" She asked, warily, "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he took a deep breath, "I'm sorry I'm late, I just, remembered something, and I got caught up."

"What happened?"

Booth paused, dropping his keys on the counter before he leaned against it.

"Today's the anniversary of my buddy Teddy's death," he told her, "I didn't realize until late this afternoon, so I decided to go, pay my respects after work."

"I'm, sorry," Brennan was unsure of what to say to something like that, taking a long pause, feeling like she was walking on egg shells, "was he, in the army with you?"

"Yeah," Booth responded simply, not elaborating on the subject as he took another deep sigh before changing topics, "jeez, I'm sorry. I totally forgot the food."

"Not a problem," she assured him quietly, reaching out to touch his bicep gently, "want to go grab something?"

"I'm really not hungry," he told her, glancing down at the hand she had on him, "but, I know you probably are, so go ahead," he nodded towards the door, "I'll be fine. You go get something to eat."

"Booth, I'm not going to leave you here alone," she whispered, leaning forward to kiss his shoulder softly, "you need someone right now."

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine, I just need a few minutes," he assured her, not wanting her to stay there and starve herself in order to comfort him.

"No, Booth, I want to stay. I want to be here for you. That's what partners are for, right?"

"I'm not trying to be a jerk or anything, Bones, but there's really nothing you can say or do right now that'll make me feel better," he tried to put it as gently as possible, as he sat down in a chair at the table and rested his elbows on the surface.

Brennan tugged nervously at the sides of her shirt.

"I'm, with child," she blurted out.

Booth looked at her, curiosity in his eyes, which were still a sharp red.

"Huh?" He asked.

"I'm, having a child," she tried again, her cheeks burning, "your child," she paused when she saw his mouth fall ajar, "I'm pregnant."


	87. It's Just a Zygote

**A/N: Hola =] Thank you all so much, the feedback on the last chapter was incredible. Maybe I should leave you on cliffhangers more often. xD**

**Anyway, I know this chapter's short, but I felt bad for leaving you all hanging like that, so I decided to at least get something to you all. See? I'm not that horrible.**

**Also, I did my Googling on pregnancy, so I hope I got good information. I really know nothing about it, considering I've never been pregnant (I'm only fifteen, people xD****) so if anything's wrong, feel free to point it out.**

Chapter Eighty-Seven:

"It's Just a Zygote"

Brennan felt herself clam up when the only response she received was him staring at her, as if she had a third eye. Cheeks glowing red, she tried to do damage control, swallowing the lump that rose in her throat.

"I, thought maybe, that would make you feel better," she said meekly, her voice sounding as small as a mouse, even to herself.

Silence.

"Booth?"

"Baby?" He could only manage the simple word, his mind swimming in too many thoughts, making it impossible to form a proper sentence.

"Don't call me baby."

"No, not you," he shook his head, finally able to pull himself together, "A baby? I'm...I just...wow. I mean, I was just, not expecting...that."

"Why are you pausing every few seconds?" She asked.

"Bones, you gotta give me a minute to collect myself," he told her, "I'm trying to process my thoughts."

Brennan pulled on her shirt a little harder, feeling like an idiot for bringing it up like that.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you like that," she apologized, "you're upset about your army friend."

Booth ran a hand through his hair, unsure of what to focus on at the moment, the fashion in which she told him or the actual news itself.

"I...I don't even know what to say," he searched for the words.

Brennan crossed her arms over her chest, hoping it would make her feel less exposed, just standing in the middle of the kitchen, having dropped a bombshell on her partner.

"Are you, happy?" She asked, actually fearing the answer.

The way he was looking at her made her feel as if she were under a microscope.

"Are you?" He asked.

Brennan shrugged, rocking onto the balls of her feet, then back down.

"I'm scared," she told him honestly, "but, I'm happy."

Booth was drumming his fingers against the table, unsure of what he was feeling at the moment. Maybe if she'd told him at a better time, he would have picked her up and spun her around, jabbering about how happy he was, but that night, as much as he loved her, and as much as he wanted to be excited, he was having a hard time.

"I thought you were on birth control?" He asked, the thought suddenly dawning on him.

"I was," she said, her hopes falling each time he avoided the 'are you happy?' question, "but after the abduction, I stopped taking it. Not on purpose, of course, I kind of just, forgot about it. Birth control was the last thing on my mind when I was traumatized."

"And you never thought to tell me?"

"We weren't sexually active for two months after I stopped taking it, I didn't think it was a big deal," she rubbed her arms uncomfortably.

"And, after we became sexually active again, you never thought to, I don't know, tell me we had to start using condoms?"

"I wasn't thinking about that," her voice was sheepish, feeling almost guilty for allowing all of this to go on when she should have known better. It wasn't like they were teenagers who were stupidly in love and decided to just have unprotected, spontaneous, sex. They were two intelligent adults, and that made Brennan feel like an idiot for not taking the advice she heard all through her teens and early adult life. "Booth, stop with all the questions. If you're not happy, just say it. I can take it, and, in some way, I can understand."

Feeling bad for making her feel as if he didn't want the child she was carrying, he stood up and went back over to where she was standing awkwardly, pulling her into a hug. Brennan sighed and rested her head against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She was surprised when he pulled away after only a few seconds, moving his right hand to place it on her stomach.

"You won't be able to feel anything yet," she told him, looking down to see his hand resting against the bottom of her stomach.

"I know," he laughed softly, "I'm just, trying to process all of this," he used the hand that wasn't on her stomach to tilt her chin up, forcing her to look at him, "this is all just a little surreal, Bones. If you told me when we first started this relationship that in six months you'd be carrying my child, I would have laughed."

"Me too," she laughed lightly, "I'm actually excited to experience pregnancy though."

"You said you were scared before," he told her, letting her know that he heard that, and it wasn't going to slip by, "what are you afraid of?"

Brennan shrugged, placing her hand over his.

"Becoming a parent," she admitted, "I know I shouldn't be, but, I'm afraid I'll be a bad mother. You're always the one that says I'm not personable. What if our child hates me?"

"Bones," Booth had to laugh, seeing the disapproving look she was giving him, "it won't hate you. You're it's mother," he poked her stomach gently, looking down between them once again, "isn't that right, little guy?"

"It can't hear you, Booth," she told him, "it's just a zygote."

"Please don't use the word 'zygote' to refer to our child," he groaned at how she had to ruin everything with her squint speak, "it wasn't made in a test tube, Bones. We made a baby out of love. Me and you."

"It's still a zygote," she was confused as to what his problem with the word does, "that doesn't mean it was made in a test tube. A zygote is just the cell that is formed when a sperm cell meets and fertilizes an egg cell. It's a science."

Booth moved his hands to hold her shoulders, smoothing his hands down her biceps.

"Can you do me a favor and just, put the brain in neutral tonight?" He asked.

"And put the heart in overdrive?" She asked, recalling what he'd told her during Max's trial.

"Yes," he laughed, taking her hands in his, "now, listen here, Braniac. We're going to go make love, okay?"

"Making love to celebrate something that occurred because of precisely that," she pondered over the thought for a minute, "interesting."

"Bones," his tone was warning, only half kidding, "brain. Off."

"I wasn't-" she stopped herself before she could get sucked in.

"Go on."

"No," she let go of his hands to wrap her arms around his neck, "I'd much rather skip the talking and get right to the physical aspect of the night."

"Ah, you know that's just what I like to hear," he smiled, leaning down to press his lips to hers, neither of them hesitating to part their lips to the other, almost as if it were second nature now.

And, in some ways, it was. They both knew what their lover liked, for the most part, even though they both were coming to see that there were still so many aspects of the other to explore. There was usually at least one moment every time they made love where there would be a 'you like that?' or a 'here?'. They could read one another's reactions as well. Booth knew when Brennan scrunched her nose up, as if she were smelling something strong, that she didn't like what ever he had just tried, and Brennan knew when he discreetly pulled away from her, that she probably shouldn't try that anymore. Normally, Booth knew, if she would laugh, it was good, considering, Brennan was never shy about laughing during sex. And Brennan always looked to see if the cords in his neck relaxed, indicating his pleasure, letting her know all was well.

That night, it seemed as if there was more experimenting than usual, both of them experiencing the other in a completely different way. Laughs and playful poking turned into soft moans and caresses. Their breathing slowed and sped in time with one another, and when they were finished, they only took a few minutes to get their bearing before starting all over again. At some point, when it was already closer to morning than night, they decided the only way to stop the cycle was to get dressed, barely having enough energy to work the clothes back onto their bodies. And when they fell asleep, Brennan was curled against her partner, her best friend, her lover, and now the father of her child's chest, only subconsciously feeling his palm pressing flat against her stomach as they drifted off.

* * *

Brennan was only half awake when she felt the vibrations of her partner's voice against her stomach, noticing, only then, that she could feel a cool breeze on the skin there.

"Booth," her voice was sleep ridden as she glanced down at him, seeing her shirt pushed up and her partner's cheek against her abdomen, "what are you doing?"

"Shh," he hushed her, kissing her stomach softly, "I'm talking to the baby."

Brennan could almost swear she felt her heart swell, the feeling of his stubble scratching lightly against her stomach and the fact that he was talking to her baby, _their_ baby, nearly making it burst. She ran her fingers through his hair, smiling down at him endearingly.

"It can't hear you," she reminded him for the second time since she told him about all this, "it won't be able to hear until the eighteenth week," she paused, knowing his next question was going to be how she knew that, "I did my Googling."

"It probably can't hear me because you're up there yapping," his voice was soft, as if he was trying not to disturb the baby by speaking too loudly, "hush."

"Booth, pregnancy isn't really all that exciting in the first few weeks," Brennan filled him in, stroking the top of his head gently, lowering her voice in order to satisfy him, "it's not until a few months in that it becomes interesting. By the fourteenth week we'll know the baby's sex, and by the third or fourth month I'll start to show. Before that, nothing really changes."

"Except you get all hormonal and start snapping at me, demanding crazy food that you don't even like, trying to jump me every three seconds, and asking me to rub your feet."

"The feet rubbing aspect won't come until later either. And, according to you, I already try to 'jump' you every three seconds" she laughed lightly, "as for the snapping at you, I will try my hardest not to let that happen too often," she paused, "although I'm not sure how easily that will come. You're very annoying sometimes."

"Coming from Miss Perfect," his voice was sarcastic.

"I never claimed to be perfect."

Booth ignored her, pressing another soft kiss to her stomach.

"Bye, baby," he whispered against her skin, before picking his head up to move back up and meet her, touching her face gently, "I'm going to do that every day, you know."

"Talk to a zygote?" She asked.

"I heard if you talk to a baby enough while it's in the womb, it'll know your voice once it's born."

"That is, once it can hear, and once it is actually a baby, not just a mass of cells."

Booth simply rolled his eyes, not feeling up to having this argument with her. Seeing that they were no longer talking about the baby, Brennan glanced at the clock, groaning when she saw the time.

"I only slept for an hour," she complained, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

"Go back to sleep," Booth kissed the top of her head, "we'll go in late today."

"You're only agreeing to go in late because you're exhausted too," she laughed.

"Yes," Booth said, not feeling the slightest bit ashamed.

Brennan paused, closing her eyes when she felt his arm wrap around her shoulder.

"It's your fault," she mumbled, "if you weren't so good in bed we wouldn't have this problem."

"Ha, my fault?" Booth snorted, "You, Bones, were crazy last night. Every time I caught my breath you were kissing my neck, or running your hands down my sides, or straddling my waist."

"You're only supporting my theory. If you weren't good in bed we wouldn't have to worry about things like that."

Booth simply laughed.

"Go to sleep," he urged her

Brennan nodded, wanting to say something witty, but falling asleep too soon before she could get the words out of her mouth.


	88. Don't Analyze Everything

**A/N: Sorry it took a little while for me to update, guys. My older sister is away at college, so I'm currently switching over from my room to the bigger room (which used to be hers, but is now mine), so I haven't really had time to write. But here's the next chapter, so wait no more. =]**

**And, as always, thank you for the feedback. =] You guys rock.**

Chapter Eighty-Eight:

"Don't Analyze Everything"

Coffee in hand, Brennan walked into the Jeffersonian nearly two hours late, feeling much more dead than she was sure she ever had. She was grateful that Booth went with her, his hand on her lower back as they wove through people to find the Squint Squad, relieved that she didn't have to take the Walk of Shame alone. Now, normally, the Walk of Shame was when you'd go into work in the same clothes the next day, indicating a one night stand, but with Angela as a co-worker, the Walk of Shame was coming in late. Thanks to Angela, everyone knew what it meant when someone came in late.

"Hello, Squint Squad," Booth's voice startled the working scientists, as Brennan swiped her ID card to let them both onto the forensic platform.

"Hiya Booth," Cam was surprised to hear his voice, "and Doctor Brennan."

Brennan turned to Booth once they were on the forensic platform.

"I'll see you tonight," she said, leaning up to kiss his lips softly.

As strange as she knew it seemed, it felt good to be able to kiss him in public, in front of other people. She knew they couldn't kiss in the FBI building, since they would risk getting their partnership severed, but in the lab, where everyone was aware of their relationship, it felt almost, liberating. They'd spent months hiding it, so she figured that was why she liked having it in the open here.

"Alright," he kissed her cheek, "I have to go talk to Robert Wilson about his drug dealer, try to get a little more information out of him," he rolled his eyes at the mention of the boy's name, "We'll get Chinese tonight, okay? And I won't forget it this time."

"Hey, wait," Brennan complained, grabbing his arm before he could walk away from her, "you didn't tell me that you were going to talk to Robert. I want to come with you."

Booth half smiled and touched her face lightly.

"Bones, maybe you should just, hang back, today," he suggested.

"Why?" Brennan asked, "I'm your partner. I want to come."

"I don't want you around Robert Wilson or anyone close to him," he told her seriously, lowering his voice so no one could hear this part of their conversation "I don't know what these people are capable of, and I don't want to risk anything."

"I'm capable of protecting myself," she complained, "and, besides, you'll be with me."

"You probably shouldn't be putting too much stress on yourself," he gestured towards her stomach, ignoring her reasoning "I'll fill you in a little later, but you need to relax today. You barely slept, so you're a little on edge. Just, hang out with Angela, or play with your bones, or whatever you do."

"I don't 'play', I examine," she corrected him, still annoyed that he wouldn't let her come, but really dreading another argument starting, "there is nothing fun about examining the bodies of people who were murdered, or killed during a war."

Booth rolled his eyes and kissed her cheek once more.

"Just, stay here, Bones. Just for today," he paused when he saw the look on her face, indicating her disapproval, "I promise, you can come next time, as long as it doesn't have to do with Robert Wilson."

"We're investigating the murder of his siblings! He's always going to be involved."

Avoiding responding to her observation, Booth just looked at his watch.

"I really gotta go," he said, taking his hand off of her waist, "I love you."

"Stop," she grabbed his arm, not allowing him to escape that easily, "don't try to run out of here just like that. I need to know that you're going to let me be involved in this case."

Booth looked at her apologetically.

"Bones, I really, just don't think the stress is good for you," he said, keeping his voice low, in an attempt not to upset her, "I'm sorry, baby. The next case, I promise, you'll have full participation, but this one's personal for you. I just don't think it's the best idea."

"I'm an adult," she reminded him, "I can handle it."

"You know why I don't want you there. It has nothing to do with whether or not you're an adult or whether or not I think you can handle it," he glanced from her eyes, to her stomach, back to her eyes, in a silent signal, knowing she didn't want to share the news with her co-workers yet, "I'm just trying to keep you safe from Robert Wilson."

"He won't hurt me," Brennan assured him, "he thinks he loves me. Why would he try to harm me?"

"This may come as a surprise to you, Bones, but stalkers, and, I don't know, _psychopaths_, are usually not very rational."

Brennan could almost feel her blood boiling under her skin, forcing herself not to explode on him for being so damn protective. She knew she shouldn't have been surprised anyway. If he was extremely protective before, it was going to be twenty times worse now that she was pregnant. Now, he had two people to protect, even though Brennan would argue that it was not exactly a person yet.

"Fine," she bit her lip, attempting to keep her tone even, "go."

Booth half smiled, feeling bad for upsetting her, but knowing it was for the best. Brennan closed her eyes when he kissed her head, scrunching up her nose uncomfortably.

"I love you," he told her again.

"I love you too," Brennan mumbled reluctantly, her voice barely audible.

"What was that?" He asked playfully.

Despite the fact that she was annoyed with him, she had to laugh lightly, unable to help it.

"I'm not saying it again," she pushed on his shoulder, "go do your job."

"Alright, alright," he laughed, heading towards the door before he turned to face her again, "dinner tonight, right?"

"Yes, as long as you don't forget the food again."

"I already told you I wouldn't," he continued his walk to and out the door.

Brennan simply sighed and pulled on a pair of gloves, going to pull her hair back before Angela brought her plans to a halt.

"Sweetie, stop right there," Brennan stopped what she was doing, waiting for Angela to get close, noticing the way she glanced around and lowered her voice before she spoke, "you told Studly last night, didn't you?"

"What?" The last statement caught Brennan off guard, "What makes you come to that conclusion?"

"He was acting all sweet and sappy," Angela explained, as if what she was talking about was obvious, "he knows there's a little Booth in the oven."

"Please, Angela, there's people around," she pled.

"Sorry," her friend lowered her voice to a whisper, "but I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yes, I told him last night," Brennan lowered her voice as well, nodding towards limbo in a gesture asking Angela to follow her, noticing that she kept up and walked at her side, "he was upset about his friend from the army, since the anniversary of his death was yesterday, and I figured telling him would brighten up his mood."

"Aw," Angela gushed, slapping her friend's arm enthusiastically, "how did you tell him? I want the whole story. Did you do something cute and creative? Did you loosen him up with a shot of Jack and a shoulder rub like I told you to?"

"I just said 'I'm with child'."

There was a short silence between the both of them as they reached limbo, and Brennan pulled her hair into a messy ponytail.

"And?"

"And what? That's what I said."

"That's all?" Angela was disappointed by the lack of story, "You didn't even think of a cute way to tell him? This _is_ your first child after all," she paused, just looking at her curiously, "how did he react?"

"He was surprised at first," Brennan explained, "he was, really shocked. I was afraid he wasn't happy, but it turned out it just took him a minute to process the news."

"Well maybe if you didn't just yell out 'I'm with child' when he was stressing over something else it wouldn't have taken him as long to process."

"It kind of just, popped," she defended, "I realized only a few seconds after I said it that I should have waited for a more appropriate time."

Angela simply laughed.

"But he was happy, after it all sunk in," Brennan continued, knowing that Angela was curious, even though she never asked, "he's, really happy. We made love until four o' clock in the morning last night, and then, this morning, I caught him talking to the baby," she paused a small smile on her face, "even though I tried to tell him the fetus can't hear until the eighteenth week, so speaking to it is pointless at this stage."

"He's perfect," Angela sighed dreamily, "you're both perfect. For each other. Together," Brennan rolled her eyes at how dramatic her friend was, "seriously, Bren. That baby's lucky to have parents like you two."

"I don't know," Brennan sighed, going to get herself a limbo case, "Booth is a good father. I'm not worried about him. I'm worried about, well, me," she paused when she glanced over to Angela, seeing her confused expression, "I'm not good with people, especially children."

"Parker loves you," Angela reminded her, "and you were good with baby Andy."

"Parker likes me because his father does. And I only had to take care of Andy for a short period of time. This is going to be my child. My responsibility, Ange. What if I'm just, not cut out to be a parent? Why should the child have to suffer because I don't know what I'm doing?"

"You know, sweetie, you should really get some of those parenting books," she suggested, "they have a million of them. And you always brag about how fast of a learner you are. Just skim through a few books, and you're ready to go. You'll be the best mom out there."

"You and I both know that's not true," Brennan laughed lightly.

"You'll be a good mom, Brennan, I know you will," Angela assured her, "ask Booth, he'll say the same thing."

"He said the baby will love me because I'm it's mother. He never said I was going to be a good parent."

"Oh, Brennan, it was implied," Angela rolled her eyes.

"You can never assume, Ange. Booth doesn't think I'm personable."

"You're not. But, for some reason, you're good with kids. It's strange, actually."

Brennan shrugged, not really feeling up to talking about it any longer.

"I guess I'll worry about that when it gets closer," she said, "honestly, it still hasn't really processed yet. I know I'm pregnant, and I don't have a problem with it, but it just all still doesn't seem real yet. I guess once I start showing, and going for ultrasounds, it will all come together."

"Do you feel anything yet?" Angela asked curiously, fascinated by the whole thing, "like, are you having to pee a lot? Are you clothes getting small?"

"Well nausea comes in waves, which is why I took the pregnancy test in the first place, and I've been unusually tired lately," she told her, "I did my Googling, and it said that frequent urination all depends on how the baby is laying in the uterus. And my clothes aren't getting small, not yet at least."

"I'm so excited," Angela's smile was big, as if she were the one having the baby, "I can't wait to babysit, and read it stories, and play with it. That baby is going to be so cute. You know everyone's going to be gushing over it once it's born."

"I know, you'll all be very annoying, I'm prepared for it."

"Aw, sweetie, leave it to you to be prepared for us."

"You'll annoy Booth more than me. You know how he is. He's going to think the two of us should be spending quality time with the baby and will probably get annoyed when it's rarely ever just the three of us."

"Aw, Bren, we'll make sure to give you all your space. But that baby better be calling me Auntie Angela as soon as it can talk."

"That's something I believe I can manage," Brennan laughed, "I promise, it will call you Auntie Angela. Maybe not as soon as it can talk, but shortly after."

"Right, knowing you, it's first word will be beaker, or fibula."

Brennan rolled her eyes.

"Booth would probably have a stroke if it was."

Angela laughed.

"Probably," she agreed, peeking outside the archway that led back out to the lab to see many people all hard at work, "I should probably go do something before Cam comes in here and sees me just hanging out talking to you. Something tells me she wouldn't really appreciate that."

"Oh, yes, of course," Brennan assured her, "I have limbo cases to work on anyway."

"Okay, you have fun with," she gestured towards the skeleton Brennan was currently working on, "that."

"She," Brennan corrected her, "and I don't know why everyone just assumes this is fun for me. You know, you're the second person today to say that."

"Maybe that's a sign that you need to get out and do fun things more, instead of hanging out here with dead people."

"Ange, you know I don't believe in signs."

"I don't know," Angela made sure to drag out the last syllable, "it sure seems like a sign to me. Get Studly to take you out to a club or something."

"Angela, I'm pregnant. What could I possibly do at a club?"

Angela paused, seeming to forget that part.

"Right," she had to laugh, knowing she didn't have an answer to that, "fine, then maybe not a club, but," she paused, trying to think of something, "I don't know. I'll think of something and get back to you later."

"You do that," Brennan laughed, turning back to her work and allowing Angela to go do hers as well.

* * *

Cam, or 'the cat', as she liked to call herself had let 'the mice' go home early that day. It didn't take long for an exhausted Brennan to pass out on the couch, the book she was reading resting next to her on the coffee table. When Booth came home with the Chinese food, he expected her to either be still at work, or maybe reading or working on her novel. He was surprised when he found her asleep, setting the food on the counter before kneeling in front of the couch. Brennan shifted slightly, but didn't wake up until he touched her cheek.

"Mm," she mumbled, opening her eyes half way, "morning."

"It's evening, babe," he laughed lightly, "hungry?"

Brennan shook her head weakly, too tired to even complain about him calling her 'babe'. She took a minute to collect her thoughts, covering her mouth when she yawned, taking her partner's hand from off her face to hold it in hers, almost instinctively.

"How were things with Robert Wilson?" She finally asked, intertwining their hands.

"Non existent," Booth mumbled, obviously bothered by it, "listen, Bones, I know I told you I was worried about the stress and everything, but I'm going to need you to come talk to him for me," he tried to read her expression, hoping he hadn't upset her, "I really don't want you to, you know that, but, he refuses to talk to me. All he kept saying was 'I'll only talk to Temperance'. I'm not too thrilled about you two chatting, but I'll be right there."

"Will he let you stay in the room?" Brennan asked.

"If he doesn't I'll charge him with obstructing justice," he shrugged simply, "he knows something, Bones. He knows where that drug dealer is and he just won't tell me."

"Probably because you were mean to him," Brennan reminded him, bringing his hand up to her mouth to kiss it softly, rubbing her cheek against the back of his hand afterwards, "how someone so warm and kind can be so cruel is still beyond me."

"Alright, Drama Queen," he laughed, "cruel? I wouldn't go that far."

"You were not nice to him, at all. It's not surprising that he hates you. And it's only worse now because he knows we're a couple, and he wants me to himself."

"And he thinks I beat you. Don't forget about that."

Brennan rolled her eyes.

"He doesn't think you beat me," she huffed, "he just thinks you're capable of violence."

"Whatever," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her jaw bone softly, seeing her smile out of the corner of his eye, "the only way I do and ever will touch you is like this."

"I know," Brennan promised, laughing lightly when he scattered kisses over her face, pausing until he stopped to look at her, a smile on his face, "come lay with me."

Booth laughed.

"I don't think we'll both fit on the couch," he told her.

"We'll find room," she told him, tugging on his hand in a silent signal, "come up."

"I don't want to crush you," he laughed.

"You won't," she promised, pulling on his hand more vigorously.

Unable to say no to her when she was making the begging face, he stood up from where he was kneeling in front of the couch, seeing her move back against the back of the couch to make room for him. It was a tight squeeze, but they managed to fit, for the most part, even though half of Booth was still hanging off the edge of the couch.

"You're uncomfortable," she observed.

"I'm fine," he lied.

Brennan snuggled into his back, breathing in the uniquely Booth scent as she closed her eyes again. Even though she knew he couldn't have been comfortable, with his leg hanging off the couch, she didn't really care at that moment, just wanting to lay with him. Draping her arm around his waist, she buried her face into his jacket and took a deep breath.

"Tired?" Booth asked.

He felt her nod against his shoulder blade, kissing the fabric softly.

"Pregnancy hormones?"

She nodded again.

"Fatigue starts early on in the pregnancy," she told him.

"You're turning into quite the pregnancy expert, aren't you?" He laughed.

Brennan's laugh vibrated against his shoulder.

"I want to make sure I'm doing everything correctly," she said, "if I make any mistakes, the baby will suffer. I want it to be healthy, and I want this pregnancy to be as painless as possible."

Booth laughed.

"Bones, just take a step back and enjoy it," he laughed, "this is your first child. Experience. Don't analyze everything. I know it's hard for you to control your squintiness, but at least try."

There was a silence between them.

"Bones?" Booth asked, when he didn't receive an answer.

He hadn't realized that by the time he was finished speaking she was already asleep, her face pressed against his back and her arm around his waist, holding him to her, making sure he couldn't escape the uncomfortable position she had him in.


	89. It's The Anthropologist In You

**A/N: Hello all =] I don't really have all that much to say in the here author's note, other than thank you all for your feedback. And I'm sorry if there's any mistakes. I proofread this a few minutes ago, and I tried to be thorough, but I have the world's worst headache at the moment, so I may have missed some.**

Chapter Eighty-Nine:

"It's The Anthropologist In You"

Brennan wasn't entirely sure how Booth managed to scoop her up and place her in bed without disturbing her, but she knew she was there, in their bed, simply because she had room to stretch out and her face was buried in the soft pillows. It was still dark outside, and her partner was still sleeping on the other side of the bed, but she wasn't surprised that she was up so early, considering she fell asleep early the night prior. Silently sliding out from under the covers, she went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, knowing Booth would be grateful if he woke up to coffee already made.

By the time Booth had woken up, Brennan had already showered and made breakfast for the two of them, leaving his aside on the stove while she ate.

"How long have you been up?" The sleepy voice of her partner startled her.

"A while," she answered, turning from where she was absorbed in the newspaper she was skimming to look at him, "I made eggs if you want some. And coffee's in the pot."

"Eggs and coffee?" He kissed the top of her head, hearing her laugh lightly, "look at you getting all domestic," he put a finger under her chin to tilt her head up to look at him, seeing the look of disapproval on her face, "you're spoiling me, Bones."

"I'm not domestic," she said the word as if it were taboo, "what you're telling me is that next time I wake up before you, I should leave you to fend for yourself."

"I see someone's in a mood," he half joked, kissing her temple softly.

"I'm not in a 'mood'," she assured him, "I'm just, thinking about how we have to talk to Robert today, and it's making me uneasy."

"Maybe that's just the morning sickness," he tried to make light of it, seeing the distressed look on her face.

"Booth, I'm not kidding. This whole thing is just very stressful."

"I know, Bones," he promised, seeing that she wasn't in the mood to be joked around with, "it'll be over soon, alright? We're just going to go talk to him for maybe a half an hour, at the most, and then it'll be done."

Brennan was silent for a few seconds, unsure of how to tell him about the idea she got that morning. She figured the plan was fool proof, but knew that if she didn't word it carefully, he'd take it the wrong way, and probably go into cardiac arrest, or something along those lines.

"We're going to break up, okay?"

Okay, that was definitely _not_ the way she wanted that to come out.

"Excuse me?" Booth asked, knowing he must have misheard her.

"We're going to break up," she repeated, seeing the look of horror wash over his face, quickly clarifying, "we aren't _actually_ going to break up, we're just going to make Robert think we did. I'll have to stay somewhere else for a while though. Maybe I'll stay with Angela."

Booth watched her as she casually looked back at the newspaper, as if this weren't a completely insane and ludicrous idea.

"No," he said, simply, closing off the topic there.

"Yes," she said stubbornly, looking back up at him with a serious expression, "we're not really going to break up, Booth. But everyone around us needs to think we did."

"Everyone?" He asked, "I thought it just had to be Robert?"

"Well, he's a stalker. I don't know how stalkers work. I don't know if he'll ask other people, or watch other people, so we're just taking precaution," she took a minute to think about it, drumming her fingers against the table in thought, "I'll feel bad telling Angela though. She'll probably be upset."

Brennan watched him, waiting for a reaction, seeing that he just stood there looking lost, as if he had no idea what she was talking about.

"This is insane," he told her, looking seriously into her eyes, "you know that, right?"

"It's a little strange, but you want to catch this murderer, don't you?"

"I'm sure we can find an easier way than fake breaking up, Bones," he had to laugh at her reasoning, "and not only are we telling Robert that we broke up, but we're telling all of our friends. What are we going to say once we 'get back together'?"

"We'll explain to everyone why we had to lie to them," she shrugged, "Booth, there's only so many people who even have to know. We don't have to make a production of it. I'll tell Angela, she'll probably tell Hodgins, and you can tell Sweets."

"You know Sweets is going to be a pain in the ass. He's going to be trying to get us back together the whole time so he can keep his job."

"Well, we're going to have to deal with that," she shrugged.

Booth huffed and ran his hands through his hair, still not agreeing or disagreeing, unsure of what he actually wanted to do. Of course he didn't want to break up, even if it was fake, considering that would mean he wasn't allowed to see her for the duration of the split, but he kind of saw where she was coming from. If Robert thought Booth was out of the picture, he'd probably open up easier. He still wasn't entirely sure why they had to lie to Sweets and Angela though.

"You're enjoying this," he accused, "you like the idea of getting to see how everyone will react to us breaking up. It's the anthropologist in you."

"Of course I'm not enjoying this," she said defensively, "it's simply for safety purposes."

"You're full of it."

"Booth," she complained, "you think I want to go days, even weeks, without seeing you?"

"No," he laughed lightly, as Brennan stood up to place her hands on his shoulders, smoothing them down his arms, "what are we even going to say? Why did we break up?"

"You cheated on me," she said, as if he should have known that.

"Bones! No."

Brennan rolled her eyes, knowing that he didn't want anybody thinking he was a cheater.

"Fine, I cheated on you."

"Can't we just say we went our separate ways due to a mutual agreement, or something?"

"Booth, I'm pregnant," she reminded him, running her hands back up to his shoulders, "Angela is never going to believe that we just decided it wasn't working when we have a child on the way."

"Wait, rewind," he stopped her, "Angela knows?"

Brennan mentally cursed herself, that small little detail slipping her mind.

"Yes," she said, her voice slightly meek, "she's the only one though. And I made her promise not to say anything."

Booth groaned in aggravation, instinctively placing his hands on her waist as she looked up at him hopefully, waiting for the okay to get this thing started. Her philosophy was that the sooner they started, the sooner it would be over.

"I'll call you every night," she tried, hoping maybe that would have some influence on his decision, "and besides, if I say I cheated on you Angela won't kill you."

"Well now that I know Angela won't kill me..."

"Don't be sarcastic, Booth, this is a serious thing, and I guess I understand if you don't want to do it."

"You're making that face," he accused.

"I'm not making any face."

"You're saying you'd understand if I said no, but you're making that puppy dog face, like if I _did_ say no you're whole world would come crashing down."

"That, makes no sense," she told him.

Booth leaned down to give her a meaningful kiss on the lips.

"I'm gonna be so lonely, Bones," he told her, cupping her face gently before smoothing her hair away from it, "I'll be talking to myself, or to the TV," he smiled when she laughed lightly, "we should invest in a puppy."

"Soon we'll have a _baby_," she reminded him, earning another kiss for the last statement, "that should be enough company for you."

"You're taking the baby with you when we 'break up'," he joked, "I better get it on the weekends."

Brennan's eyes lit up.

"So you'll do it?"

Booth simply sighed, having to smile at her enthusiasm as he pressed his forehead against hers, thumbing over her bottom lip softly.

* * *

_Knock, knock, knock._

Brennan rocked back and forth impatiently, waiting for the door to open, trying her best to build up tears in her eyes. She thought about everything that upset her. Her mother's death, getting picked on all through highschool, getting abandon by Russ, and finally, she felt some moisture gather in the corner of her eyes. When the front door opened, Angela was surprised to see her friend standing outside, duffle bag in hand, and tears in her eyes.

"Bren?" She asked, "Are you okay, sweetie?"

"Would I be able to stay with you for a little while?" She asked, her voice cracking just enough to make it believable, as if she were trying to hold it in.

"Of course," Angela opened the door a little wider, allowing her to step inside.

Considering how rich Hodgins was, Brennan was surprised by how quaint the house that the couple had bought together was. It was one floor, and looked like a house you'd see in a sitcom about just your average, everyday, family. She figured it made sense though, because there was only two of them. They really didn't need all that much space.

"What happened, Brennan?" She asked seriously, as Brennan set her bag on the floor and crossed her arms over her chest, forcing a few tears out.

"Booth and I," she paused, sniffing just a little, "we broke up. And now I have nowhere to go. I'm going to have to raise this child on my own, and I feel like the biggest idiot on the planet."

By the time she was finished, she had a few tears rolling down her cheeks, seeing that forcing the cry was easier once she was talking. Angela, however, looked like she was about to pass out.

"What happened?" She asked.

Brennan sighed and took a seat on the little couch.

"An old boyfriend of mine came into town..."

"Oh, Brennan," Angela knew where it was going before it started.

"Nothing happened, Ange, I swear. We just kissed, that's all. Booth freaked out, rightfully so, and he said we weren't going to be able to get past this," she sighed and leaned forwards to her elbows were against her knees, "I just, don't know why I did it. We were just caught up in the moment, I guess."

"I know you guys can work through this," Angela told her, for some reason, feeling as if she was more upset over this than Brennan was, which struck her odd, "I know you can. I know you don't believe in fate, but, you two are meant to be together."

Brennan shook her head, wiping the tears off her cheeks.

"No," she told her, her voice sounding defeated, "he hates me. He's so angry with me."

"Can you blame him?"

Brennan placed her head in her hands, squeezing out a few more tears.

"I miss him," she cried, making sure not to overdo it, "you know I never told a man that I loved him before Booth."

Something clicked in Angela's mind, as she crossed her arms over her chest. Angela Montenegro was not stupid, and she refused to be played for a fool by her best friend, who thought that just because she was a genius, she could get away with anything.

"You and Booth didn't break up, did you?"

Brennan was shocked that she had been figured out so quickly, picking up her head to look at Angela, making sure she looked a mixture between hurt and confused. It always amazed her how good this woman was at reading people.

"Of course we did," Brennan wiped her tears, "why would I make that up?"

"Why don't you tell me?" Angela asked, looking at her sternly, "sweetie, I'm not as dumb as I look. Number one, you'd be a lot more upset if you and Booth broke up, especially since you're carrying his child, and, number two, I know you'd never cheat on him. You're too head over heels to even _think_ about kissing another man."

Brennan bit her bottom lip, knowing she was busted.

"Am I really that bad of an actress?" She asked.

"No," Angela assured her, with a small laugh, "I'm just good. And do you mind explaining why exactly you came here crying, telling me you and Booth split up, pretending you cheated on him? Is this some kind of anthropological study or something?"

"Well he didn't want me telling you he cheated on me," she told her, avoiding the first part of the question.

"Brennan..."

"We have to pretend we broke up. It's for a case. Robert Wilson might not speak to me unless Booth is no longer in the metaphorical picture," she watched Angela's face, seeing that she looked moderately confused, "so you have to pretend you think we're broken up, okay?"

"Why didn't you just tell me that to begin with instead of trying to tell me that you guys actually did break up?" She asked.

"Because Booth and I thought it would be better if nobody actually knew, because then there could be no slip ups or anything," she told her, correcting herself after only a few seconds, "well, I did. Booth thinks the whole idea is crazy. He's not very thrilled about it."

"I can't imagine why," Angela's voice was sarcastic.

"I don't know why you all act as if pretending to break up is so crazy," she shrugged, "Booth seemed uncomfortable, like if we did this then that would lead us to actually break up," she took a minute to think it over, coming to her own conclusion, "maybe he's afraid I'll see that my life can be satisfying alone and I won't need him anymore."

"Are you thinking that's going to happen?" Angela asked.

"What? No, of course not. I'm just telling you what he might be afraid of."

"Okay," Angela had to laugh, crossing her legs and setting her hands in her lap, "so what's going on? What do I tell Hodgins? Are we going with the whole you and Booth broke up story or are we just going to tell him that we have to fake it?"

Brennan had to notice how her friend said 'we', as if she were a part of this.

"I'd prefer for only a limited amount of people to know," she told her, "so if you don't mind lying to Hodgins, I would greatly appreciate it," she paused when Angela gave her 'the look', "I know you don't like lying to him, but I'm sure he'll understand the circumstances."

"Well if I'm going to lie to Hodgins, you can't walk around here looking all normal and happy-ish," Angela warned her, "you have to mope around and act like you really are upset. Channel those acting skills."

Brennan shook her head nervously.

"Booth says I am not a good actor," she told her.

"Well you're going to have to try," Angela had to laugh, "you did an okay job with me. I just know you too well."

Brennan huffed and ran her hands through her hair. She hadn't realized that this was going to turn into a twenty four hour gig when she suggested the idea.

"I just want to catch this murderer," she complained, "this is not going to be enjoyable."

"Aw, I'm sorry, sweetie," Angela felt was sympathetic towards her friend's situation, "leave it to murderers and stalkers to put a damper on your love life."

Brennan nodded in agreement, standing up from the couch and grabbing her duffle bag off the floor.

"I have to go talk to Robert soon," she told her, "can I put this in the guest room?"

"Sure," Angela smiled, "actually, I'm pretty excited that we're going to be roomies. I mean, I know you'd rather be staying with Booth, since there's some pretty decent assets there, but, hey, we've never lived together before. It'll be an experience."

"It's only going to be for a short period of time," Brennan reminded her, "and I feel bad for just coming here and interfering with you and Hodgins' time together."

"We live together, Bren, it's not like our time is limited," Angela assured her, "and besides, you just said it's only going to be for a short period of time."

Brennan simply shrugged, glancing down at her watch.

"I really have to go," she told her, resuming what she was originally going to do by hauling her bag over her shoulder.

"Tell me how it went when you come back," Angela told her, rather than asked, "and hey, Bren," she caught her attention before she could scurry off to the guest bedroom, "I'll try to sneak Booth in here for you at some point."

"You don't have to do that," Brennan assured her.

"Just let me, please," Angela pled, "if I don't, I'm just going to feel guilty every time I kiss Hodgins."

Brennan simply laughed and allowed her to do as she pleased, dropping off her things in the guest bedroom and quickly making her way to the car, mentally preparing herself on the drive there to talk to Robert Wilson.


	90. You Need Me There

**A/N: Hi =] Thank you all for your feedback, as usual. I love reading what you all have to say in reviews, and getting story/author alerts just lets me know that people are enjoying my writing, which is a great feeling. So, here's the next chapter (can you believe we're at ninety already? I can't) and this chapter was actually pretty fun to write. So I hope you enjoy it. **

Chapter Ninety:

"You Need Me There"

Brennan couldn't fathom how, even after six and a half months, this man still made her feel like a hormonal teenager. They were supposed to be 'broken up'. She had to remind herself of that over and over again simply to stop herself from grabbing him by the tie and taking him right there in his office. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, or maybe she really was just that addicted, but, regardless, it was hard for her to focus when they were trying to have a serious discussion about what was going to go on in the interrogation room.

"Bones? Hello?" Booth realized she wasn't listening about three minutes into his speech, waving a hand at her to get her attention.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized, "I wasn't paying attention."

"I noticed that," he had to laugh, "need me to repeat?"

"Would you?"

"Alright, listen this time. You're going to go in alone, and I'll put money on it that he'll ask where I am at some point, you'll pull the whole 'he always treated me like crap' thing, he'll bond, and maybe you'll be able to pry some information out of him."

"Booth, the only thing that's going to accomplish is making him hate you more than he already does," Brennan told him, not following his logic, "I'm not sure about this. I don't know if he's crazy or anything."

"Obviously he's crazy. He followed you home and sent you flowers," Booth laughed.

"I'm not joking. What if he tries to hurt you?"

"Bones, I'm a sniper trained FBI agent. I think I can handle a fifteen year old kid."

"Not if he gets the jump on you."

"Ha!" Booth laughed, as if that were some kind of amusing joke, "no one gets the jump on me. I mean, other than the time I got knocked out and wrapped in a rug like a pig in a blanket, which was actually kind of embarrassing, considering that guy only had one leg."

"Booth, please stop joking around," she pled, needing him, for just this once, to be serious, "you're always concerned about my safety, allow me to be concerned for yours."

"Alright, alright, if it'll make you feel better, I'll be extra cautious. I'll even be Hodgins paranoid if that's what it comes down to."

"Thank you," she sighed in relief when he finally agreed to be extra careful, "and if I'm going to be staying with Hodgins and Angela, I think it would be advisable to give me a gun," she held up her hand to cut him off before he could say no, "and before you say 'I'm your gun', like you always do, I have to remind you that you're not going to be there."

"I'm not giving you a gun, Bones," he huffed, wondering why they had to go through this conversation once again, "I'm sure you'll be fine without one."

"What if I need to defend myself?" She asked.

"You won't."

"What _if_."

"Bones, I'm not discussing this with you. I'll tell you what, our Golden Anniversary, I'll give you a gun, alright?" He attempted to compromise with her.

"We'll be in our eighties!" She complained.

"Listen, do you want one or not?"

"By the time I'm eighty I'll be too frail and arthritic to even pull a trigger. At that point having a gun would be pointless."

"What your telling me is that you don't want one. So fine. I'll get you a puppy instead."

"Getting an eighty year old a puppy would be inadvisable. And what is your fixation with puppies all of the-"

"Booth, Doctor Brennan?" Sweets opened the door to Booth's office, cutting off their pointless argument, "Robert Wilson's here."

Brennan could tell by the tone of his voice that something was bothering him, but instead of asking him about it, just nodded, and let him close the door. Once she was sure he was out of hearing range, she turned back to her partner.

"Did you tell him?" She asked.

"Yeah," Booth told her, as she turned around to leave the office with him, noticing how he lowered his voice once they were out in the open, "I felt kind of bad. He seemed broken up over it, like, he felt like it was his fault or something."

"No, why would he feel like it was his fault? You told him I cheated on you, right?"

"About that..." Booth started warily.

Brennan didn't give him a chance to finish before she huffed and looked to the ceiling.

"I couldn't bring myself to do that to you, Bones. I'm not going to make you look like some love-'em-and-leave-'em, man-eater type. I just said we went our separate ways. He bought it, alright? Isn't that all you wanted? The only problem is that now there's going to be two different stories floating around out there, since you told Angela the cheating story."

"Um, about that," she mimicked his words, seeing him smile smugly when he heard that she screwed up her task as well, "you know, don't look at me like that! I tried to tell her, but she figured me out. She's very good at things like that."

"So, all in all, this plan is working out great," his voice was sarcastic, "I changed the reasoning and you're such a terrible actress that Angela figured you out, in what? Five minutes?"

"She said it had nothing to do with my acting skills," she pushed on his arm as they walked, in order to show her frustration with him, "she said there's no way we'd break up when we're expecting and that I would have been much more upset than I was if we really did."

She paused when he looked at her curiously.

"What did you do? Just prance in there all happy-ish saying that I kicked you out of my house?" He asked.

"No! I cried! But apparently that wasn't enough. She must expect me to curl up into a fetal position on the floor and sob myself to sleep if and when we actually break up."

Booth couldn't help but laugh, stopping at the door of the interrogation room so he could speak to her before going inside.

"Do you feel bad for Sweets?" He asked.

"Yes," Brennan told him, honestly, a look of distress on her face, "it's understandable why he would think this was his fault. He probably thinks he didn't do a good enough job with partner's therapy."

"I'll tell you what, Bones, once we're done in here, I'll go talk to him and try to cheer the kid up, alright?"

Brennan half smiled, making sure to look over her partner's shoulder every now and then to make sure no one was coming.

"Thank you," she smiled gratefully.

"Sure," he smiled back, handing her an earpiece "now put this in, and go."

"Right," she laughed putting the earpiece in so she could hear him, making sure to stop and put on a serious face before she opened the door and went inside, half smiling at Robert when she saw him.

She could see the boy's eyes almost light up, as if seeing her just made his whole day that much better. Normally, she would be flattered, but, with him, she couldn't help but feel a little creeped out, simply because she didn't know exactly how crazy he actually was, and what he was capable of.

"Hi," she smiled, seeing that, even behind his smile, he looked like a frightened puppy, "you don't have to be nervous," she told him, sitting across the table from the teenager casually, "you're not getting interrogated. This is just the only place I could really come talk to you."

Booth half smiled, knowing she was baiting him to mention Booth.

"That's my girl," he smiled to himself.

"What about Agent Booth's office?" Robert asked, taking the bait.

Brennan's smile faded at the mention of Booth, wrapping a lock of her hair around her finger for affect.

"Booth, will not be joining us," she said, keeping her voice low.

"How come?" Robert asked, "Is he busy with something else? I mean, not that I mind that he's not coming, you know I'm not really his biggest fan."

Brennan laughed weakly, and Booth couldn't help but roll his eyes from behind the two-way mirror.

"We're, not really on speaking terms right now," she told him, looking at him to see the concern in his eyes, "it's nothing, really, I shouldn't even be brining it up," she shrugged, knowing he would pull his whole 'you can talk to me about it' routine.

"No, it's fine," he did exactly as she was expecting, "I'm listening."

"Well, we just went our separate ways," she shrugged, deciding to go with the story Booth had told Sweets, since Angela already knew she didn't cheat on him anyway, "it wasn't working out. We thought it was, but we fought more than we got along. I thought I loved him, but, I guess we weren't compatible."

"Did he hurt you?" Robert asked, seeming genuinely concerned.

"No," Brennan assured him, shaking her head, "not physically, I mean. We just didn't really get along," she half smiled at the boy, having to laugh lightly, "I guess you were right, Robert. He was never exceptionally good to me. Maybe I do deserve someone better."

She couldn't help but glance at the two way mirror with apologetic eyes, wanting to assure him that this was all only an act, even though she was fairly confident he knew. When Booth saw her, looking nervous, as if she was afraid she would offend him, he had to laugh.

"It's alright, Bones, you're good," he assured her, through the earpiece.

Brennan half smiled at his words, but made sure it looked like she was smiling at the teenager in front of her.

"You do deserve better," Robert assured her, "I knew he wasn't good enough for you."

Brennan nodded in agreement.

"He just, I guess he doesn't know how to love. At least not the way I need and deserve to be loved. After everything that I went through in my childhood, I need someone who can love me the right way."

"Of course," Robert agreed, "but you shouldn't be upset. You'll find someone. Maybe someone you would never expect."

Brennan nodded, knowing he was talking about himself, but choosing to ignore it, deciding to get on with the question she needed to ask him instead.

"But, we aren't here to talk about me and my relationship problems," she shrugged it off with a small laugh, "I just needed to ask you if you know anything, and I mean really, anything about your siblings. The case is at a bit of a standstill right now, and we'll take any type of information we can get."

Robert's expression seemed to fall, as if he were ashamed of something.

"You don't have to be embarrassed about anything you know," Brennan assured him, seeing the way he looked down nervously, "this is just between me and you," she half smiled when he looked up at her, "nothing you say will change my view on you."

Robert let out a long sigh, looking from Brennan to the table before he began to speak.

"I was really upset about them," he said, unable to bring himself to say the names of his siblings, since he knew, if he did, he would break down, "I thought about turning back to drugs, but I knew I'd have to pay Donovan back first. So I called up one of my buddies, and he told me Donovan's squatting in some abandon grocery store in the area. I don't remember what it was called or what street it was on, I'm sorry."

"No, please, don't apologize," Brennan was slightly more frantic than before, since now they were getting somewhere, "that's good. The FBI will narrow it down and we may be able to find where he is," she saw the unsure look in his eyes, "it's not a case closing piece of evidence, but it's something, Robert. Something is good."

"And if you find Donovan, you'll know what happened to my siblings?" He asked, hopefully.

"Maybe," Brennan was honest with him, "it's not a sure thing, but we at least have a lead."

Robert smiled weakly.

"I just want them to get justice," he told her.

"I know," she assured him, "we all do," she paused, smiling back, "is that everything you know?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you more."

"Don't apologize," Brennan stood up to leave the room, "thank you, so much. I'm going to get someone to start looking right now. Someone will be here to escort you out."

She only received a small wave when she left the room, immediately feeling someone grab her and pull her into an excited hug once she got outside and the door closed. She wanted to push whoever it was away from her, until she realized it was only Booth.

"You did it, Bones," he told her, grasping her shoulders gently once he let her go, "you're a natural in there. God, I'm so proud of you, my little student."

"Please don't ever call me 'little' again," she warned him, feeling his hands abandon her shoulders when she indicated that she was ready to go back to his office, "can you do me a favor and get one of 'your people' to start searching for closed down grocery stores in the D.C. area?"

"Yeah, sure thing," he told her, glancing around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation before he brought up the next topic, as they made their way back to his office, "so, now that we got the information, this whole fake break up thing, it's over, right?"

"Wrong," Brennan shook her head, glancing up at him curiously, "we may still need information from him. It's not over until the case is closed."

Booth stopped once they reached his office and ushered her quickly inside, feeling safer discussing this in the privacy of the little room.

"Bones, that could be months," he reminded her.

"It's a small price to pay to catch a murderer, Booth. And what did you tell the FBI anyway? They weren't supposed to know we're together, let alone that we broke up."

"I told them we faked a relationship in order to fake a break up," he huffed when he saw the confused expression on her face, "Bones, that's not important right now. You're telling me you might need to live with Angela for months. You're pregnant. You need me there."

"No, I don't," she assured him, "of course I would like you to be there to experience it with me, but if you're not I'll still be able to function. And besides, I highly doubt it's going to take so long to close this case that you're going to miss my entire pregnancy."

"How far along are you anyway?" He asked, simply out of curiosity.

"If I had to take an educated guess, I'd say about a month and a half. What does that matter though? It's not going to take eight months to close a case."

"I never said it would, I was just, wondering how far along you were," he held his hands up in a dramatic surrender, "sorry. I'll stop caring if that's what you want."

Brennan rolled her eyes at how over the top he could be.

"Can you please call for the grocery store search, and then go talk to Sweets?" She asked, "I need to go back to work."

"I was kind of hoping you could come talk to Sweets with me," he told her, "if we show him that we're civil towards each other, he'll feel better. I mean, I can tell him that we're fine, but it would probably be better for him to see."

"You're just trying to get me to stay so you can spend more time with me," she laughed.

"That, could possibly be part of it, but I plead the fifth," he smiled at how she figured him out, "but the whole seeing thing, that's definitely part of it too."

"Alright," she agreed, even though she was aware of his intentions. It wasn't like she minded spending time with him anyway. "Let's go do damage control."


	91. Your Relationship Was Never Perfect

**A/N: I'm so proud of myself that I actually wrote fast. xD Every now and then I just catch the writing bug, and can bang out like, four chapters in a week. Not sure if the bug's here to stay, but enjoy it while it lasts. =] And of course, thank you all for the feedback.**

**And, you guys get a nice little B&B moment here, because when I remembered Bones was coming back this week, I became very excited, and was in such a happy Bones mood, that I decided to write a steamy little scene for you all. Just don't get too excited, because when I say little, I mean, very small. But hey, it was better than what I was going to do, which was go from Sweets, right back to Brennan at Angela's. You can thank Fox for that one. xD**

Chapter Ninety-One:

"Your Relationship Was Never Perfect"

Sweets was sitting in his office, coffee in hand, going back in his head and thinking over each and every therapy session he had with the two partners. He didn't know what could have gone wrong. He did everything he could possibly do to make sure their relationship would hold, so why was he so torn up by this? It was because he knew this was going to happen, and did nothing to stop it. They broke up because they couldn't handle it, the way he knew they couldn't. Now, while that wasn't directly his fault, he knew there was more he could have done. There was a way he could have stopped this, he knew, but just wasn't entirely sure what that was yet.

"Come in," he called, when he heard a knock on the door.

He was surprised to see the two of them standing together in the doorway, since, he'd known since the moment they told him they were in a relationship, that if they ever broke up, it would not be a clean break. It would be dirty and ugly, filled with anger and resent, which is why he was taken aback when they stood there so calmly, so peacefully, as if they were best friends.

"Hiya, Sweets," Booth spoke quietly to him, as if he were a child that just lost his goldfish, "mind if we come in?"

"No, come," he motioned for them to come all the way in.

Brennan saw the look on his face, unable to make out the exact emotion of it, as she closed the door behind her. It looked somewhere between hurt and guilty, but neither of them could figure out why he felt that way. Even though he would never admit it, even to himself, Sweets knew exactly why Brennan and Booth breaking up was taking a tole on him. The two of them were his surrogate family. Them breaking up was equivalent to a child's parents getting divorced. He felt as if the little family he built was crumbling.

"We wanted to talk to you about, all of this," Booth spoke again, as they took a seat on the psychologist's couch. Brennan had agreed to let him do all the talking, since Booth feared if she spoke, she'd say something that would just make it worse. "Listen, Sweets, the two of us had a mutual break up. There's no hard feelings, neither of us want to kill each other. We're cool. We agreed that it wasn't going to work, and both of us are okay with that."

He felt as if he actually _was_ a parent talking to a child about divorce when he spoke to Sweets, knowing he may have been treating him too much like he would Parker.

"None of this seems right," Sweets told him, shaking his head in confusion, "any psychologist on the planet would agree that when the two of you broke up, it would not be easy, and you would not be able to remain friends. The way you had four years of build up, and then you just let it all out in one night," he paused, wanting to explain it in a way that they could understand, "your relationship was like someone that had too much caffeine. They're hyped up, off the walls for a little while, but then they crash. That was how your relationship was supposed to be. Honestly, I gave it a few weeks before the crash. And when it lasted six months, I came to terms with the fact that I was wrong. But now, this isn't right. There's no way you two are this civil with each other after breaking up," he exchanged glanced between the two of them, "you're just pretending you are so I don't feel like such a failure."

"No offence but we honestly don't care about how you feel that much," Booth laughed, only joking around with him to make light of everything, "if we weren't civil with each other, we'd have no problem telling you that."

"You thought our relationship would fail within weeks?" Brennan asked, finally speaking her first words, since that one part of Sweets' speech made her very curious.

"Bones, not really important right now," Booth warned her quietly, nudging her gently with his elbow in an attempt to silence her.

"Yes," Sweets told her, honestly, "there was no balance. No moderation. You two didn't do _anything_ in moderation when it came to your relationship. There was too much raw passion behind it that neither of you were quite ready to handle yet. So, yeah. I gave it a few weeks before you two broke up. Then you'd hate each other for a while, and maybe, eventually, you'd be able to tolerate one another again, after a very, very, long time."

"We knew we weren't ready for all of this yet," Booth explained, "that's why we broke up. It wasn't a big blowout, or a huge, earth-shattering fight, just a mutual agreement to end our intimate relationship. I helped Bones move out, and now we're back to the way things were. The way things were working. We're partners. We solve crimes together. That's all."

"None of this makes any sense," the psychologist mumbled to himself, shaking his head once again. Finally figuring something out, he exchanged glances between the two of them, crossing his arms over his chest in frustration. "You two are holding out on me, and I'm starting to get really frustrated with both of you. Every time we have a session, I have to pry information out of you two. It's like pulling teeth. Can you guys, for once, just be honest?"

"We are being honest," Brennan blurted out, completely forgetting about she and Booth's agreement for her to be silent, "I don't see why you would think we're holding anything back."

"Because this is all, too perfect," Sweets became a bit more animated, "so after six months, you two just, randomly decide it's not working, and you stay friends, just hanging out, going to the diner like good old times?"

Booth and Brennan glanced at one another, as if asking for approval, shrugged, and nodded.

"No, I'm not buying it," Sweets refused to just give in to their game, "you two have been through too much together. There's no way, absolutely no way that your split would be this cut and dry."

"Listen, Sweets, now you're starting to piss me off," Booth leaned forward a bit, frustrated by Sweets' unwillingness to cooperate, "Bones and I are friends. That shouldn't be too hard for you to understand, boy genius."

"Your words are complimentary, but you're using them in a way that seems offensive," Brennan observed, leaning close to her partner to whisper to him.

"Good observation, Bones," his voice was sarcastic as he whispered back to her.

Sweets huffed and put his head in his hands, knowing that something was not right about this. No matter how much they tried to convince him all was well, he felt uneasy. There was definitely something they were not sharing.

"You know, I can't force you guys to tell me anything," Sweets gave up, leaning his back against the back of his chair, "if you guys decide you want to be honest, then you can come talk to me. But if you're just going to come here in order to lie to my face, I'd prefer it if you'd just leave, and save us all the trouble."

"We only came to make you feel better," Brennan told him, not wanting him to feel as if they were treating him like a fool, "we don't want you to feel like it's your fault."

"Like I said," the psychologist stood up, smoothing his pants out, "if you decide you want to have an honest and serious discussion about this, then come back."

"We are-"

"Come on, Bones, forget it," Booth cut her off mid-sentence, subconsciously taking a hold on her forearm when he stood up to bring her with him, "he's just being a pain in the ass now," he turned to Sweets to look at him again, "you know, Sweets, we were just trying to do a nice thing, and you had to go make us regret it."

"Do a nice thing by lying?" He had to laugh bitterly, "And I know you're lying. Don't you remember that this is my job? You don't think I notice the subtle things that let me know this is all planned out, like the way Doctor Brennan isn't chewing you out right now for speaking for her? It's all too perfect. Your relationship was never perfect."

Brennan looked up at her partner.

"It _is_ quite annoying when you speak for me," she told him, casually.

Sweets huffed in frustration, feeling as if he might explode.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd leave until you're up to being honest."

"Fine, we're going," Booth placed his hand on her lower back to lead her out of the office, "and if you're waiting for a different story, pal, you're going to be waiting for a long time, because there is no different story."

Sweets winced when the door slammed behind them, but took notice to that last subtle gesture. Booth's hand on the small of her back. If they weren't together anymore, why did she still let him touch her so intimately? Touching was supposed to be awkward at that stage of a break up. Neither of them were supposed to be sure about where the other's hands were allowed to go. Normally, in that type of situation, one would keep his hands to himself, at least for a few weeks, until he was certain of the boundary line. And then it hit him. Why they seemed like they weren't bothered by their break up. It was because they weren't broken up at all. They were still very much together.

* * *

"Booth, stop leading me around like cattle," she complained, as he nudged her into his office, taking a quick look around before he drew the blinds, "why do I have a feeling I'm about to get scolded for some-"

Before she could complete her sentence, she felt her back against a hard surface, the rest of her words smothered by her partner's lips as he practically ravaged her up against the wall.

"Booth!" She cried, in shock, against his mouth, turning her head to the side when she desperately needed to breathe, feeling his lips move to her neck as soon as they were disconnected from hers, "oh," she half sighed, half hissed, "what are you doing?"

"I want you," he murmured against her skin, feeling her shudder when his teeth scraped over her pulse point.

"This is neither the time or place," she told him, her breathing erratic by this point, "oh, God, stop, please," she begged, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure. She knew he must have been in the mood, not only because he dragged her into his office and threw her against the wall in a passionate frenzy, but because he was purposely driving her crazy with his mouth. She could swear, if they existed, that this man had superpowers. "W-What are you doing now?"

"Making you mine," he explained to her, soothing the bite marks with his tongue, groaning against her skin when she shivered, "God, you're so sexy when your shivering under me like that," she moaned softly in response, "I want to make love to you right here."

Brennan shook her head, as painful as it was for her to say no at the moment.

"We can't. Not with all these people around. Someone will hear," she decided she needed to be the voice of reason, "besides, do you really want to make love in your office?"

"Yes," he told her, honestly, moving to nibble her earlobe softly, whispering huskily into her ear, "you know how many times I've dreamed of making love to you on my office floor?"

Brennan's heart pounded, her brain needing to switch to logical mode before all of this got out of hand.

"H-How could I possibly know that?"

He chuckled raspily, his breath caressing her ear. She could feel his hands move to the buttons on her blouse, and, knowing she needed to cut this off here, she gently pushed him away with the shake of her head.

"No, Booth, stop," she tried to sound stern, even as her voice shook, "You brag so much about your self control, yet you're the one attempting to jump me right here in public."

"The blinds are down," his voice was as smooth as velvet, as he reached for her again.

Brennan pushed him away again before he could get too close.

"I'm supposed to be the hormonal one, remember?"

Booth took a minute to process her words, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths as he ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry," he finally apologized, "I just," he paused, running his hands over her biceps as he looked at her kiss swollen lips, "kind of lost control there for a minute, you know, knowing that we have to go a while without seeing each other."

"I know," she laughed lightly, understanding where he was coming from, "and I'll miss intercourse as well, but I'm sure we'll be just fine. Besides, I have the security tape from the storage room in my bag, incase I start to miss you."

"Bones!" Brennan could see his face flush when she mentioned 'The Tape', "Why would you bring that with you?"

"I just told you, incase I start to miss you," she said, as if that were obvious, "I can lend it to you if you want."

Booth simply laughed, pulling her close to lean his forehead gently against hers. Brennan wasn't sure what was so funny, but didn't press the issue, simply smiling up at him before he leaned down to kiss her tenderly, his lips barely touching hers. When he placed his hands on her waist, she looked down at his wrist to catch a glimpse of the time.

"I have to go back to work," she laughed softly, kissing the corner of his mouth.

Brennan stepped away from him and went to leave the office before she was stopped.

"Bones?" Booth called her back, before she could get too far.

"Yes?"

"You might want to wait until your lips aren't red anymore before you go strolling out into the open space," he had to laugh when she blushed, "wouldn't want everyone to know what was going on in here. Especially Sweets."

"Yes," Brennan laughed, letting go of the doorknob with a smile, "that would be wise."


	92. What Are You Wearing?

**A/N: Hello all. Yes, I am still on my writing kick, but it's been a little while, so expect it to die out soon. xD This chapter is pretty much just playfulness, no real plot development or anything. I've just been in the mood to write fluff lately, for some reason. I guess I'm just a fluff bunny deep down. And it's also pretty Hodgela heavy, along with the usual B&Bness. =]**

**Of course, thank you all for your feedback, even though you all know already.**

Chapter Ninety-Two:

"What Are You Wearing?"

"We're going to dinner," Brennan was startled by the sound of her friend's voice, turning to look at her, seeing that her arm was linked with her fiancé's, "you can join us if you want."

Brennan shook her head, knowing she had to play the role of the depressed, recently dumped woman for Hodgins.

"I think I'll just stay here," she said, "I'm not really feeling up to doing much."

Angela glanced at Hodgins before half smiling apologetically at Brennan, simply for effect. Honestly, all Brennan wanted to do right then was go out. It had only been a few hours and she was already going stir crazy, but she knew she couldn't go out and have a good time when she had to make Hodgins believe she and Booth just split up.

"Alright," Angela sounded sympathetic when she spoke, "I'll see you later."

"Bye."

When the door closed, Hodgins looked over to his fiancé, a look of curiosity on his face.

"She had a hickey," he observed.

Angela nearly choked on the air she was breathing in when he made the blunt statement.

"I'm sure she didn't," she said, mentally cursing her best friend for being such an idiot sometimes. She knew it must have been from Booth. "She just broke up with Booth. You see how she's just laying on the couch like a corpse. I'm actually worried about her."

"Ange, don't even pretend you didn't see that," Hodgins had to laugh, "you expect me to believe that you go from being the most observant person on the planet to letting things like hickeys slip by you? I'm not buying what you're selling, baby."

"Fine, I saw it," Angela knew he would never believe that she didn't, "maybe it was old. Or maybe she found someone to just have a quick hook up with. She did mention an ex of hers being in town."

"You think she'd do that to Booth?"

Angela stopped when they reached Hodgins' Italian car, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You know, you're a typical man," she accused, "Brennan hooks up with another guy a few days after she and Booth break up, and it's all 'why would she do that to Booth?', but if Booth hooked up with another girl right now, you'd be giving him an 'atta boy' and a pat on the back. Women are allowed to move on too, you know."

"I'd be surprised if Booth hooked up with someone else already too," Hodgins assured her, opening her door for her before getting in on the driver's side, "I wouldn't be saying 'atta boy'. If either of them are already seeing other people, it's obviously just to dull the pain."

"I know," she said, closing the passenger side door behind her once she was in the car, "it's just a shame. Their story was so romantic. Four years of sexual tension, and then, bam. They just let it all out and fall in love with each other," she shrugged, "I guess that kind of thing only happens in movies or books."

"Hey, we have a good story," Hodgins reminded her.

"Jack, we only had one year of sexual tension, and when we first got together we were going at it like rabbits every chance we got," she reminded him, "imagine four years of that build up? I think your head would have exploded."

"Definitely," he agreed with a laugh, "I could barely handle myself for one," he paused, kissing her tenderly, "but, honestly, as bad as I feel for Brennan and Booth right now, I'm not really up for talking about them."

"Me neither," Angela laughed, "let's go celebrate us."

* * *

Brennan waited about forty minutes, making sure the coast was all clear, and there was going to be no backtracks or flaws in their plan before she flipped her phone open and pressed the first number on her speed dial, laying on her back on Angela's couch as she stared at the ceiling, waiting for an answer.

"Booth."

"Booth," Brennan smiled, even though she knew he couldn't see her, "hi."

"Hey," she could hear his voice brighten up when he realized who it was on the other end of the phone, "what are you wearing?"

"Stop," she laughed, feeling a blush rise onto her cheeks, even though she was alone, meaning there was nothing to be embarrassed about, "there's no possible way you can still be turned on from this afternoon."

"Really, Doctor Brennan? You might want to revisit that theory," he laughed.

"You're making me blush," she informed him, touching her fingers to her cheek to feel her warm skin as she sighed, "I hate this."

"I know," he assured her, "I hate it too, but, hey, it'll be over soon. I promise."

"I want you," she stated bluntly, "it's all I've been able to think about."

"Bones, I'm telling you now, we need to find a way to sneak quality time," he sighed, "we're both going to explode with pent up sexual energy before this is all over."

"I took a twenty minute break from work today just to lay on my couch and fantasize," she shared with him, hearing him groan in frustration at how she was purposely trying to arouse him, "it was so vivid, Booth," she sighed dreamily.

"Please, baby, don't breathe my name like that,' he begged, "I'm having a hard enough time with this as it is."

Brennan smoothed her hands down her tank top, her locks of auburn hair sprawled messily across the couch cushion as she stared at the ceiling fan, watching it spin at a mellow pace. This was officially torture. Not that she minded staying with Angela and Hodgins, but she missed the benefits of living with her boyfriend, and not to mention that she had been craving a release since that afternoon, one she knew she wasn't going to receive any time soon.

"You really want to know what I'm wearing?" She asked.

"Dear God, please, no."

"Shorts and a tank top," she continued, despite his protests, "it's uncomfortably warm in here. Even in the short clothing, I'm still sweating," she ran her fingers through her hair and groaned in discomfort, "maybe I should tie my hair back and push the tank top up to my ribs."

"You're doing this on purpose," he accused, "now the only thing I can think about is you, all hot and sweaty with your hair in a loose bun and your shirt pushed up," he took a minute to run over the picture in his mind, "do me a favor and don't put your hair up."

"Why not?" Brennan asked, sitting up straight.

"I like it better down," he told her, simply.

"What does it matter? You can't see me anyway."

"Bones, just play along, alright?"

Brennan tucked her hair behind her ear, catching on to his little game.

"Oh, are we going to start talking dirty now?" She asked, "I've heard games like this are quite stimulating."

"Bones," he groaned in frustration, "you really have a way with words."

"It was a simple question," she shrugged, not seeing what the problem was, "I've heard of this before. We simply stimulate one another's imaginations, which should be easy for me, considering I'm a best selling author. I'll go first."

Booth cut her off before she could start to ramble.

"That's not what we're doing," he told her, before she could start, "we're talking. Just, talking. I miss you, baby. It's nice to just relax and, converse, right?"

"Sure," Brennan half-heartedly agreed, "well, except for the 'baby' part, which I've very kindly ignored the past two times you've said it."

It was quiet between the partners, both of them fine with just laying there in silence for only for a few minutes, before Booth attempted to make small talk.

"So how was the rest of your day?" He asked.

"Fine," she responded, not necessarily feeling up to meaningless chit-chat.

"Anything interesting happen at work?"

"Not really."

"Oh, well that's cool too, I guess."

It went quiet again, but Brennan was the one to break the silence this time.

"I want to have sex with you."

"Wow. Way to just, cut to the chase. You rehearse that one much?"

"It honestly isn't funny," she told him, letting out a long sigh, "my hormones have been almost unbearable the past few days. I'm tired all the time, I snap at people unintentionally, I get nauseous in the middle of the day. The only upside is that the fantasies are incredible. Ange helped me write a scene in my novel today, and I'm very anxious to try it."

"Bones," he warned.

"I'm not attempting to arouse you, Booth. I guess I'm just, thinking aloud."

"I want you to do something for me."

Brennan took notice to how his voice seemed more lusty than it had before.

"Anything," she could already feel herself starting to blush.

"Close your eyes, tilt your head to the side, say a breathy 'Booth', an-"

Brennan stopped paying attention when she saw headlights outside the window, knowing that she needed to get off the phone as quickly as possible.

"I have to go," she cut him off, mid-suggestion, "I'm sorry, can we resume this at a better time? I think Hodgins and Angela are home."

"Great, not only do we get interrupted when we speak to each other for more than ten minutes, but now we're getting interrupted when we're not even together," he took notice to how incredibly annoying that was, "maybe this is a sign."

"I don't believe in signs," Brennan reminded him, "it's merely a coincidence," she peeked out the window to see that Hodgins and Angela were already coming up to the porch of the little house, "but I really have to go," she sped up her words, "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Love you. Bye."

In perfect timing, she slammed the phone shut and tossed it on the coffee table at the same time the door opened and the owners returned to the inside of their home, to Brennan's surprise, holding one another in a lip lock. Brennan looked over the back of the couch, seeing that the couple had no intentions of ending their kiss any time soon.

"Hello," she interrupted them, seeing that Angela was noticeably startled by the sound of her voice.

"Jeez, sweetie, I forgot you were here," she laughed, sounding slightly embarrassed, as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand, "I thought someone broke in for a minute."

Brennan rolled her eyes with a small smile at how forgetful her friend could be.

"And you know Ange, if she realized it was you about ten seconds later, you may have had your head cracked open with a lamp," he felt his girlfriend's elbow dig into his rib cage, "you know her. She can be rash."

"You're lucky you're so good looking," Angela turned to smile at her fiancé flirtatiously, before looking back to Brennan, making it clear that she was just trying to quickly end this conversation so she and Hodgins could continue their 'date' in privacy, "you're not going to need me for the rest of the night, right?"

"No. Why would I need you?" Brennan asked curiously.

"I don't know," Angela laughed, feeling Hodgins grab her hand gently in his, "I don't know if you're going to need any girl-to-girl consolation or anything."

"I think I'll be able to manage."

"Okay, great," Angela's voice was giddy, as she felt herself being tugged towards she and Hodgins' bedroom, "then I'll see you in the morning, alright?"

"Okay," Brennan half smiled, feeling incredibly jealous of her best friend.

She had never felt more jealous of Angela in her entire time knowing her than she did at that moment. Here she was, practically panting on the phone with her boyfriend, feeling like an idiot for even suggesting the idea that they fake a break up, since now they had sort of a star-crossed lovers type of situation, and Angela could just stroll into her bedroom with her boyfriend all casually, as if it were no big deal. Brennan would have loved to swap places with Angela that night, have her be the one who needed to stay with she and Booth, but she knew that was physically impossible. So instead of sitting around envying her best friend, Brennan found her purse, which was still by the door from when she returned from work, digging through all the junk she had thrown in there until she found what she wanted. The plain, silver DVD in the little black case. _Bingo baby_.

Opening the case, she took the DVD carefully out, leaving the empty case on the coffee table and quickly yanking the headphones out of her Ipod, as she made her way hastily back to the guest bedroom. She closed the door behind her, taking a paranoid glance around the room, even though she knew for a fact that nobody was in there, before she plugged the headphones into her laptop and popped the disc in. After she was all set up, she climbed into bed, pulled the computer into her lap, and simply enjoyed her DVD for the next couple hours, rewinding it and replaying it when it would end.

* * *

In the morning, Brennan stretched, feeling rested and refreshed, as she took the DVD out of her laptop and made her way back out to the living room to place it back in the case. Before she could put the case back in her bag, her phone started to ring, taking her by surprise. Leaving the small, square object on the coffee table, she flipped her phone open, once she saw that it was Max.

"Hi dad," she answered her cell phone, going back to the guest bedroom, completely forgetting about the object she left out in the open.

"Hi, sweetheart," Max's voice was it's usual, cheerful self, "sorry I called so early, I just wanted to catch you before you went into work."

"Not a problem," she told him, closing the door behind her as she sat back on the unmade bed, "what did you need?"

"Well, Russ, Amy, and the girls are going to be coming into town next week, and I wanted you and Booth, and maybe Parker, if he's not busy with his mom, to come have a family dinner at my house, you know, maybe pretend we're a normal family for once."

Brennan was quiet, completely torn between whether she wanted to lie to her father and break his heart by telling him she and Booth broke up, or just making an exception for him and agree to go to dinner, as if all this craziness wasn't even going on.

"Tempe? You there?"

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry," Brennan shook her head and finally spoke when she realized she had been silent for quite some time, "yes, we would love to join you for dinner. Booth and I at least. I'm not sure about Parker yet, but Booth will ask him."

"Great," Max sounded genuinely happy to hear the news, "I'll call you when I know the exact date. Just keep your plans for next week open for now, okay?"

"Will do," Brennan agreed.

"Well, since I have you on the phone, how are things going at work?"

As Brennan engaged in small talk with her father over the phone, Angela was frantically looking for something in she and Hodgins' bedroom, digging through drawers and tossing things messily onto the floor as she looked. She heard her fiancé make a small, unconscious noise in irritation from where he slept in their bed, opening one eye to look at her.

"Babe, what are you doing?" He asked.

"I saved something for work onto a disc and I have no idea where I put it," she told him, shoving clothes messily back into the drawers as she left the bedroom before he could even respond.

She sighed in relief when she saw the little black case containing the silver disc on the coffee table, picking it up and bringing it back into their bedroom, where she set it on the vanity, making sure she didn't lose it again while she got ready for work.

"Found it," she laughed lightly, "even though, I didn't remember putting it on the coffee table," she took a minute to think about it, shrugging it off, "oh well. I probably just forgot."

"It happens to the best of us," he smiled charmingly at her from his spot in the bed, where he hadn't moved from during Angela's frenzy.

Angela smiled back, quickly picking an outfit out of the closet for herself before pulling one of her fiancé's shirts off of a hanger.

"Get up," she laughed lightly, tossing the shirt onto the bed next to him, "I don't want to go in late and have Cam knowing why, if you know what I mean."


	93. Go Get 'Em G Man

**A/N: This was a short little chapter, but I felt like leaving you all on a cliffhanger, since I'm in evil-author mode at the moment. =] I was actually planning on writing the beginning of the next chapter as part of this one, but then I decided it was about time for another cliffhanger. So here you are.**

**Thank you all for your feedback too, as always. =]**

Chapter Ninety-Three:

"Go Get 'Em, G-Man"

Brennan's fingers played with the hair on the back of her partner's neck as they lip-locked, tongues sliding wetly against one another as their mouths met in a slow, languid kiss. Her thigh hitched lazy onto his hip, making sure he couldn't escape her or the couch in her office, even though, by the way he was holding her face between his hands and caressing her lips with his, it didn't look like he was planning on going anywhere any time soon. Most of the time, before the kissing started, there would at least be some sort of conversation, but things were different that day. They knew they only had a limited amount of time, and they wanted to use as much of it as they could making up for lost time.

When their lips reluctantly, but eventually, separated, Booth leaned his forehead against hers to catch his breath, laughing when he heard that she was struggling for hers as well. Brennan laughed when he did, leaning up to capture his lips once more.

"Baby, we can't," he murmured, gently disconnecting their lips, "if I don't leave soon, everyone's going to get suspicious, and we still need a few minutes to collect ourselves before going out there," he received a disappointed whine in response, "and besides, I have to go to that abandon grocery store to look for Donovan Bradshaw with a couple other guys."

"Can I come?" Brennan asked, running her fingers through his thick, dark hair.

"Absolutely not," he smiled charmingly, kissing the corner of her mouth softly.

"Why not?" She complained, with a roll of her eyes, "I always come with you to things like that."

"Because, number one, for the twentieth time, I don't want you putting all kinds of stress on yourself, and two, it's an old, run down, abandon grocery store. You don't need to be breathing in all the crap that's in there. It can't be good for you or the baby."

"I'll wear a surgical mask."

"Bones, what part of 'no' is unclear to you?"

Brennan huffed and pressed her forehead against his shoulder, her leg sliding from his hip to take it's original place hanging off the side of the couch as he scattered kisses over the top of her head and temples. Only a few seconds into the silent embrace, there was a knock on the door, and Booth went to move off of her until a voice came from outside between knocks.

"Sweetie? It's Angela."

"The door's open," she called to her, placing her hand on her partner's hip to still him, knowing it was okay for Angela to see them together, considering she already knew that the whole break-up thing was a hoax.

Angela slipped into the door and shut it behind her quickly, little, black CD case in hand.

"Aw, you two," she smiled, when she saw them cuddled up on the couch, "you're too cute, especially with this whole star-crossed lovers gig. It's kind of hot."

"Is there something you needed to tell me, Ange?" Brennan didn't even realize that she had just the slightest bit of attitude in her voice.

"Yeah, I want to know how you feel about this facial reconstruction," she told her, strolling over to her computer, as Brennan and Booth decided it was probably time to get up and join her there, "I was going to ask you the other day, but you had left already, so I saved it on a disc to show to you now."

"I'm sure it's fine, Angela," Brennan told her, feeling her partner's arm snake around her waist as the three of them stood at Brennan's desk, and Angela put the DVD into the disc tray, "you've done enough of these to know what you're doing," she waited as the disc loaded, "I'm confident that you didn't-Oh, God, turn it off! What is wrong with you? Where did you get this?"

Brennan nearly passed out when it started to play, reaching for the computer mouse, only to have Angela pull it away.

"Nope, nuh-uh, it's just getting to the good part," Angela smirked, knowing it was terrible how amused she was watching her friend panic and try to grab the mouse away from her.

Using his quick thinking skills, Booth reached behind the computer and yanked the plug out of the wall, sighing in relief when the screen went black and the sound faded out. Angela looked genuinely annoyed when he turned out to be a step ahead of her.

"You two are spoil sports," she exchanged glanced between the two of them, placing her hands on her hips in irritation.

"Because we won't sit here and enjoy our sex tape with you?" Booth asked, glancing from Brennan back to Angela, "How the hell did you get that anyway?"

Angela looked to Brennan, a smile on her face, as she could see her friend was noticeably flustered, simply knowing that now Angela had all the information she needed on their sex life, and didn't have to ask any questions anymore.

"Sweetie, these are the type of things you label," she told her, tapping the case with her index finger, "I thought it was my facial reconstruction, so I grabbed it off the coffee table this morning," she paused to laugh, "needless to say I sure got an eye full when I popped it in. Too bad you guys are an 'under the covers' couple. I was a little disappointed that I didn't get to see Studly naked."

"Angela!" Brennan was surprised by her friend's words, looking over to Booth to see that he was blushing uncontrollably.

"What?" Angela asked defensively, "You know I've always been curious."

Brennan never cared when Angela would say things like that. In fact, she always found it funny. But pregnant, hormonal Brennan was not seeing the humor in it at all. All of the sudden, at that moment, she just wanted everyone to go away and leave her in peace. Her head was pounding, and she was growing sick of both of them, even though Booth had done absolutely nothing to annoy her since he had gotten there.

"But he's not just some FBI guy anymore, Ange. We're together now. I'm having his child. And when you say things like that, it's just, completely inappropriate. And annoying."

"Woah, I can see someone's hormones are coming out to play," Angela held her hands up in front of her in a sarcastic surrender.

"Really, Bones, take it easy," Booth chimed in, "she was only kidding."

"Don't tell me to 'take it easy'," Brennan pushed his arm away from her when he went to wrap it back around her waist, "you're annoying too."

"Me?" Booth asked, the shock audible in his tone, "What did I do?"

"You're just, irritating!" She huffed in frustration, needing just a good minute to explode and have her mini meltdown, "You won't let me come look for Bradshaw with you. You're treating me like a child, or an invalid, or, I don't even know. You're just, annoying."

"Should I go?" Booth asked, not taking her outburst to heart, since he knew it was only pregnancy talking.

"Yes," she said, coldly, "both of you should. I need time to myself."

Angela left with a small wave to Booth, but he waited until she was gone to offer Brennan a soft kiss on the forehead. Brennan squeezed her eyes shut when he leaned down to kiss her forehead, the kind gesture making her feel slightly guilty for snapping at him the way she did. When he went to go leave, she thought about calling him back, but decided against it, knowing she should probably get herself in check before she attempted to talk to anyone again.

"Wow, she's in rare form," Angela observed, once Booth joined her outside Brennan's office, glancing back at the door when she spoke of the woman inside.

"Yeah, that's something we're all going to have to get used to," he laughed lightly, "it's going to be eight more months of that."

"Ha, have fun," Angela laughed, "you're the one that's gotta live with her."

"Funny, because I'm pretty sure you're the one living with her right now," he saw Angela's cocky smile fade when he reminded her of the fact, glancing down at his watch, "crap. I have to go find a drug dealer."

"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to interfere with your world-saving," Angela gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, "go get 'em G-Man."

* * *

Brennan had been trying everything she could think of in order to calm herself down. She had been finished with her work for a half an hour by this point, as was just lying on her back on her couch, taking deep, relaxing breaths. She wanted to call Booth and apologize, and she wanted to go knock on Angela's door and apologize to her as well, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Even though she was feeling a little better now that she was alone, she was afraid that if she tried to talk to them again, she'd wind up falling back into 'the world is irritating' mode, discrediting her own apology. She knew she had to wait until much later, maybe until after she slept a little.

Pulling the throw blanket off of the back of her couch, Brennan curled up underneath it, closing her eyes and letting herself relax in the piece and quiet of her own office. Just as she felt like she was about to drift off, her office door opened, startling her. Her eyes opened to see Angela standing in the doorway, not looking her usual, smiley self.

"Ange, if you came to apologize, you don't have to," Brennan assured her, sitting up straight as she pushed the blanket off of her body, "I was wrong, and I'm sorry. Lately I've just been getting fed up with everyone so easily, and I'm trying to control it."

"That's not what I came to talk to you about," her voice was quiet, catching Brennan's interest, since she knew, when Angela wasn't being playful, that something was wrong.

"Then what did you come for?" She tried to make light of the situation by smiling, "If this is about the sex tape, I will definitely label it. Although labeling it as a sex tape would be foolish. I'll probably name it something that would disinterest people so they aren't tempted to look at it."

"It's not about the sex tape either," Angela shook her head, going to explain the situation to Brennan before she started to speak again.

"I, don't know what you need then," Brennan's smile faded, expecting something horrible to be the next thing to come out of her friend's mouth.

"Sweetie, something happened. The FBI was at that abandon grocery store poking around and looking for some kind of evidence, since Donovan Bradshaw had left before they could get there, and the building exploded. Bradshaw must have made some kind of explosive to destroy the evidence, and it went off while people were still in there."

Brennan's lips turned pale, and her mouth grew dry.

"I-I don't see what that has to do with me," she stumbled over her words, knowing good and well what it had to do with her, but refusing to let it sink in.

"Bren, Booth's in the hospital."

Brennan blinked back the unwanted tears when they stung her eyes, her hands trembling as she went to brush a piece of hair out of her face.

"Brennan?" Angela put her hand comfortingly on her shoulder, "Are you okay to drive, or do you want me to drive you over there?"

Brennan swallowed, unsure of whether she could manage words at the moment.

"I, need you to drive me," she managed, knowing there was no possible way she could drive like this.

Angela nodded and said a soft okay as she left Brennan's office, with her following close behind. Brennan had to wonder why everyone she loved was getting hurt, and winding up in the hospital lately, but that only crossed her mind for a few seconds, before she stopped and froze once they were outside the lab.

"What's the matter?" Angela asked, seeing the horrified expression on her face.

"T-The last thing I said to him was that he was annoying," she said, swallowing once again.

"He's alive, sweetie," Angela assured her, "they would only tell us that much, but it's better than the alternative."

"Those could have been the last words I ever spoke to him."

"But they aren't going to be," she paused and sighed sympathetically when Brennan didn't move, "come on, Bren. You're always the one who says there's no use fussing about things that didn't happen."

Brennan nodded when Angela used her own logic against her, walking a few steps to catch up with her before they continued on to her car, the ride to the hospital feeling like the longest fifteen minutes of her life.

**I apologize. I am cruel. xD**


	94. It's Life

**A/N: I hope you guys like this one, because I worked really hard to get it out to you as soon as possible. I didn't want to leave you all hanging. You can thank me later. =] And, as usual, thank you all for your feedback. You guys are awesome. **

Chapter Ninety-Four:

"It's Life"

This man was barely even her partner. The majority of his skin was bruised and cut up, and he was lying more still than she had ever seen him before, seeming much worse than he had after the incident in her kitchen. When she entered the hospital room, he turned his head slightly to the side to look at her with tired eyes, a faint smile taking over his lips.

"Bones," he mumbled weakly, shifting, with a pained groan, to sit up straighter.

Brennan's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she made her way over to his bedside. As much as she wanted to hug him, just wrap her arms around, hold him close, and tell him it was going to be okay, she didn't want to risk hurting him any more than he already was.

"Booth," she whispered, barely noticing Angela enter the room after her, waiting in the doorway, "I'm sorry. About what I said before."

"We all do it," he assured her in a hoarse voice, knowing he had definitely said things to her in the past that he didn't necessarily mean, "don't apologize," he paused, looking at her seriously, "you shouldn't be here. Robert."

"Shh," Brennan hushed him gently, kissing the top of his head with tenderness, "I don't care about Robert Wilson right now," she stroked her hand carefully through his hair, "I don't care who finds out that we are still together. I need to be with you right now."

"I'm okay, Bones, honestly," he lied.

"You most certainly are not okay," she said sternly, leaning down to kiss a cut on his cheek, seeing him wince in pain at the contact, "you can barely move, your shoulder is dislocated, and your entire body is covered in cuts and bruises."

"But other than that I'm fine," he laughed weakly, causing Brennan to laugh softly, even though her eyes were welling up with fresh tears, "stop crying, baby. I'm fine."

"I'm sorry," Brennan immediately wiped a tear when it escaped, "I was just, afraid."

"I know," he assured her, "but look. We're all fine."

"Fine is not the adjective that comes to mind when I look at you," she frowned, then took a deep sigh, "you're probably not even going to remember this in the morning anyway. You're pumped full of painkillers."

Booth looked down at the IV in the arm that wasn't in a sling, and followed the wire up to the bag containing the drugs they had him on, in order to dull the pain.

"I'll remember," he promised, looking down at the button that he needed to press in order to get more Morphine, groaning in pain when he reached for it, unsure as to why he tossed it aside so carelessly last time he used it, "can you press my button for me?"

Brennan leaned over him to press the Morphine button, hearing him mumble a quiet thank you when she did. Only then did Angela make her presence known, not wanting to disturb the couple before hand, when they were having their moment.

"Hey, Booth," she greeted, with a half smile, joining Brennan at his bedside, "how you feeling, Studly?"

"Like I was just blown up," he answered, still able to be witty, even when he was drugged up and in immense pain.

"You look like you were just blown up too," she commented, "Hodgins is going to stop by tomorrow, alright? He wanted to tonight, but he didn't want to overload you with visitors."

"He doesn't have to come," Booth assured her, subconsciously reaching for Brennan's hand in search of comfort, feeling more relaxed when she reluctantly took it, unsure of whether she was hurting him or not, "I know he cares. He doesn't have to come out of his way. You didn't have to either. And Bones shouldn't even be here, because she's going to blow our cover."

"I told you, I don't care about our 'cover' anymore. It was a stupid idea," she looked at him apologetically, running her thumb over his knuckles.

"Really, Booth, you think we're going to leave you here alone?" Angela laughed lightly, seeing him smile the best he could in response, "you really need to stop getting blown up. This is becoming a habit with you."

"I'll try my best next time."

Angela smiled.

"I'm gonna get going, leave you two alone to do, whatever you do," she exchanged glances between the two of them, thoroughly surprise when Brennan pulled her into a tight hug.

"Thank you, Angela," she told her, sincerely, "and I should apologize to you too."

"I didn't take it to heart," she assured her, hugging her back, "you're pregnant. That's what pregnant people do."

"That's not an excuse."

Angela let go of her to look at her seriously.

"It fine, Brennan," she promised, "stop trying to apologize to me and go make Studly feel better," she looked over Brennan's shoulder to give him a small wave.

Brennan mumbled something inaudible as Angela left the room, turning back to her partner once she was gone, pulling up one of the chairs that was left in the room for visitors to sit next to him, taking his hand back in hers, needing the comfort just as much as he did at the moment. She was startled when she heard the sheets rustle from his movement, stopping him when he groaned in agony.

"Booth, you don't have to move right now," she assured him, knowing the movement was causing him great pain.

"I'm making room for you," he told her, nodding at the small space he made to fit her body.

"I shouldn't come up there," she shook her head, "I'll hurt you."

"It would make me feel better if you did."

Brennan bit the inside of her lip, knowing he was using the whole 'it would make me feel better if you did' line in order to guilt her into it.

"I really don't think I should," she said, warily.

"Come on, Bones," he looked at her seriously, and she could see the vulnerability in his eyes, an expression she was not accustom to seeing, "I need you."

Unable to resist his words, she attempted to climb into bed with him, being extremely cautious to make sure she didn't lean against any of the more serious injuries. She heard him hiss when she shifted against him, alarming her and causing her to sit back up.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she apologized frantically, looking down at him to examine the little bit of his body she could see, "where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere, Bones, I was blown up," he reminded her, wrapping his good arm around her waist to gently tug her, urging her to lay back down, "you didn't do anything. I want you here."

Brennan laid back down unsurely, able to feel the heat radiating off of his body, but trying her best not to lean too much weight against him. The hand he was able to use slid from her waist up to her shoulder, his fingers tangling into her hair. He sighed, nuzzling her temple softly.

"You're so pretty," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair, the painkillers obviously altering his behavior.

Brennan closed her eyes as he attempted to pull her closer, but she resisted, not wanting to press her back against his injured chest. After wrapping and unwrapping her hair from around his index finger several times, Booth tucked the little bit of hair behind her ear, smoothing it down.

"I'm dying, Bones."

Brennan was shocked by his words, craning her neck around to look at him with a half confused, half concerned expression.

"Of course you're not," she said, having to laugh half-heartedly, "why would you say that?"

"Because I am," he said, as if that were obvious.

"Five minutes ago you were swearing that you were fine."

"Because Angela was here. I didn't want her to know," he explained, smoothing her hair down once more, "when I die, Bones, I want you to promise that you're going to find someone to be happy with. Someone to raise our child, and someone for you to make a family with."

Brennan was quiet, feeling upset before she remembered that he was just rambling incoherently.

"You're not dying, Booth," she assured him.

"Why would I make that up?" He seemed genuinely offended that she didn't believe that he was dying.

"Because, between the explosion and the painkillers you are not in your right mind set," she told him, trying her absolute hardest not to snap at him, "you're not dying. And even if you were, I wouldn't be able to do what you are asking me to. I'd be able to cope, and move on, but I would never make a family without you. It would just be the baby and I. I would never let another man raise your child and call it his own."

They looked at each other in silence for a few seconds, both a little surprised by her sudden outburst, not towards him, but just towards the entire situation.

"Bones-"

"Please, don't argue with me about this. I do not want to fight with you right now."

"I," he noticed how Brennan looked at him pleadingly, as if she were begging him not to start an argument, "I love you."

And, for reasons she was unaware of, the three little words made her come undone, making sure to bury her face in his chest, hearing him hiss a sharp 'ow' when she did, before letting her shoulders shake with silent sobs, her tears wetting his skin. Booth stroked her back comfortingly the best he could with only one hand, kissing her head and whispering soft 'shh's to her as she cried, knowing, at this point, there was no use in trying to get her to stop.

"It's okay," he whispered, hearing her draw in a shaky breath in response, only to let it out in another sob, "shh, it's okay. I'm scared too," he promised her, "I'm scared too."

Brennan wanted to tell him there was nothing to be afraid of, that, for the last time, he wasn't going to die, but couldn't find the words in her at the moment. She picked her head up to kiss a discolored bruise on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, her breath caressing his skin.

"Why would they do this to you?" She whispered the rhetorical question aloud, nearly gasping when she noticed how mangled his rib cage was. She ghosted the pads of her fingers over the morbid, multicolored bruises there, seeing him wince in anticipation before he realized she was not intending on putting any pressure on them. "I love you, Booth."

"I know," he stroked her hair gently when he spoke.

"I was horrible to you this afternoon."

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't care about that?"

Brennan ignored his question, resting her head back against his chest as she sighed, staring blankly at the wall.

"I should have been with you."

"Why? So then you could have gotten blown up too and our baby could have died?"

"Don't," she warned, perking her head up to look at him seriously, "don't even say that."

"Bones, sometimes I just need to say something that will make you open your eyes and look at things for what they are," he told her, keeping his voice calm, but she wasn't sure if that was because he was exhausted, or if he was trying to spare her feelings, "if you would have came with me, nothing would have been different, except you would be laying in a hospital bed two doors down, with no baby."

Brennan instinctively touched her stomach.

"This is why I don't want you doing anything dangerous. If you don't keep out of danger, you'll be killing our child. Do you understand?"

Brennan was surprised by the harshness of his words.

"Yes, but," she paused, lowering her voice, "you didn't have to be so cruel about it."

"I needed you to take me seriously," he told her, his eyes apologetic when he realized how bad his words actually stung, "I'm sorry, Bones, I just, needed you to understand."

"I do understand," she told him quietly, feeling his hand move from where he was stroking her hair to put it over the one she had on her stomach, "but, I feel as if I must remind you that women experience spontaneous abortion in their first trimester very often," she looked at him, seeing confusion in his eyes, "yes, I would be upset if we lost our child, but we could always try again."

"Your kidding, right?"

"It would be upsetting, don't get me wrong, Booth. And if I'm correct, and I'm approximately six weeks pregnant, then the baby is just starting to form. If I'm incorrect and I'm less than six weeks, then it is still merely a mass of cells. Like, cancer."

"You're really comparing our child to _cancer_?"

"Cancer is a mass of cells. A child in early development is also a mass of cells. It's a good comparison."

"That's all well and good, mass of cells and blah, blah, blah, but our child is not cancer, Bones. It's a baby. In your squinty head, it may be all the same, but in my normal person brain, our baby is nothing like a fatal disease."

Brennan sighed, watching as his thumb ran over the back of her hand.

"All I'm saying is that if I do happen to miscarry, I wouldn't want you to be distraught over it. We would just have to try again once I was ovulating."

Booth moved his hand from hers to cup her cheek gently, forcing her to look up at him.

"Listen to me, Bones," his voice was soft, as he stroked his ran his thumb across her cheek bone, "right now, you may think it's just starting to develop, so it's not really a big deal, but, in eight months, you'll be holding our child," he noticed her blink in confusion, "just eight short months, Bones, our child will be in your arms. It may not have a name, or a face right now, but it's a part of me, and it's a part of you. And that's what matters. So stop thinking about miscarriages and how it's not a big deal, because it is."

Brennan had to wonder if this was Booth talking, or the pain medication, as he took his hand off of her face to give her the freedom to look where she wanted, even though she kept her eyes locked on to his.

"Your sperm fertilized my egg."

"Yes, Bones, I know the mechanics of where babies come from."

"It's a very simple thing. It's not a baby yet. Your sperm could very easily fertilize my egg again if we lost this, mass of cells. It's a very-"

"Stop, Bones, just stop," his tone was sharp when he cut her off, not wanting to hear anymore about how their baby wasn't a baby, and how it was just a fertilized egg, "I know you're scared, and that's why you're using your squint speak, to detach, but I really don't want to hear it right now. Stop trying to make this all into science. It's a baby, Bones. It's life. Pretty soon it's going to have a beating heart, just like me and you. It's not cancer, it's not a 'zygote', it's a baby. We made love and we conceived a child. Is that so hard for you to comprehend?"

Brennan blinked, surprised by his sudden change of tone.

"I, am good at comprehension," she told him, "I understand what you're saying."

"Good," his voice lowered, and he evened out his tone, "you know I don't like having to be harsh with you, but sometimes it's the only way to get you to actually listen."

She paused, pressing her palm against her stomach with a little bit of pressure, turning her head to look at the wall as she tried to imagine what she would look like with a baby bump.

"I love you," she told her partner, "even when you raise your voice at me. And I love our child too," she looked up at him sincerely, "I love our child, Booth."

"I know," he promised, "if I thought you didn't, I wouldn't waste my time trying to help you understand."

Brennan rested her head back against his chest with a small sigh, closing her eyes serenely when his fingers ran through her hair, apologizing when he'd catch a few tangles.

"You should get some sleep," she told him, taking the small remote from where he had tossed it the first time he used it to press his Morphine button again, setting it down beside her afterwards, "you had a long day."

"Only if you sleep too," he insisted.

"I'm not sure how comfortably I will be able to sleep in this position, but I'll try," she smiled lightly up at him, causing him to smile too, the best he could manage at the moment.

"Thank you," he kissed the top of her head before laying his head back down and closing his eyes, his arm around her shoulder, "I love you, Bones."

"I know," she whispered, her eyes closed as well, as she tried her best to sleep, "I know."


	95. I Can't Take Much More

**A/N: I'm so sorry for leaving you all hanging like that. xD I haven't been able to write much this weekend, because we have had a lot of family stuff, since my sister's home from college. But, anyway, here's the next chapter. =] Thank you all.**

Chapter Ninety-Five

"I Can't Take Much More"

Between nurses coming in and out, and her partner waking up every now and then, Brennan barely got any sleep that night. She didn't mind though. She was more focused on making sure she pressed his Morphine button every now and then. Booth barely slept either, waking up every hour, sometimes every half hour, from either the pain, or the horrible nightmares the medication was causing. Brennan knew what to do each time he woke up. If he was in pain, she'd press his button, giving him an extra dose of medication, and if he woke up from a nightmare, she'd simply stroke his hair and whisper words of comfort to him until he fell back asleep.

"Bones," Brennan woke up when her partner gasped her name.

It was four thirty in the morning and it was the sixth time he'd woken her that night. As sleep deprived as she was feeling, since it felt like every time she finally fell asleep, she was being woken up, she knew she had to be kind.

"What's the matter?" She mumbled sleepily, turning to look at him, her fingers moving to run through his hair.

Booth looked at her with a confused expression, looking as if he were in a daze.

"Nothing," he shook his head, seeming a combination of confused and relieved, resting his head against her shoulder, "nothing."

Brennan pressed her hand to his chest, feeling his heart beating erratically.

"Something," she whispered, smoothing her hand gently up his chest, "what is it?"

"Nothing," he promised, "just, a nightmare, that's all."

"What happened?"

"It's not a big deal."

Brennan wanted to urge him to tell her, thinking maybe it would make him feel better, but decided not to push it, figuring he'd dealt with enough that day.

"Alright," she said, warily, feeling him turn his head to press a tender kiss to her neck, "try to go back to sleep."

They were both silent for a few minutes. Brennan closed her eyes, figuring he fell asleep again, startled when she heard his voice.

"They feel so real," he told her, "the nightmares."

"You're on a lot of painkillers, Booth. They're altering your thoughts," she explained.

His hand skimmed down her arm to take hers.

"I want you to stay with me until I die."

"You're not dying, Booth!" She unintentionally raised her voice, becoming frustrated with his whole 'I'm dying' routine, "Stop saying that. I'm starting to get the feeling you want to die."

"And _when_ I die," he completely ignored her as he continued, "I want you to be with Sully."

"Sully?" Brennan questioned, raising her eyebrow, half in amusement, half in confusion. Now she _knew_ it was just the medication talking. "You hate Sully."

"He's a good guy," he intertwined their fingers, "he reminds me of, well, me. I think he still loves you too. It'll be good for both of you. I know if you guys spend enough time together again, you'll get back to where you were."

Brennan ran the fingers of her free hand through his hair.

"Don't be ridiculous," she murmured.

"I'm not being ridiculous," he looked serious when he looked up at her, "I want you to be happy, okay?"

"With Sully?"

"Yes, with Sully, if that's who you want."

"You and I both know that's not who I want," she sighed, kissing his temple softly, "we don't have to worry about any of this, because you're not going to die," she paused, looking into his eyes, "let me ask you this. Did the doctor tell you that you're dying?"

"No," he told her, as if he didn't see the point to her question, "I just know. The human body isn't made to take this much abuse."

"I believe I would know that better than you," she half smiled.

"Bones, I'm serious. I've been blown up, shot, and beaten. I can't take much more."

"You're just scared, and stressed out, and on a lot of pain medication," she explained, feeling slightly more relieved when she knew there was no medical evidence that he was dying, only his 'gut feeling', "you're not going to die. You have too much to live for."

"All I have is you and Parker," he reminded her, nuzzling the skin of her neck as he closed his eyes again, "no one else would give a damn if I died."

"Now you're just being a jerk," she was trying to be nice, but was still going to put him in his place if he needed it, "we would all care, Booth. Angela, Hodgins, Cam, even Zack. And are you forgetting about your brother and your grandfather? And Max, and Caroline, and Sweets? Do not tell me no one would care, because you know damn well that, that isn't true."

It was silent between the two of them, and she had to wonder if she went too far.

"Booth?"

"What?"

"Are you listening?"

It was quiet again, and she was curious as to what he was doing, until he turned to look at her, as if something just struck him.

"It was Robert Wilson."

"What was Robert Wilson?"

He went to sit up quickly, clasping his side in pain when he did, feeling Brennan place a hand on his good shoulder to stop him from making any more sudden movements.

"Mind your injuries, Booth," she scolded him, "what are you so frantic about?"

"Robert Wilson and Donovan Bradshaw are in cahoots," he told her, seeing her squint in confusion, "there's no way Bradshaw could have known we were coming, unless Robert told him. Robert tells him to set off an explosive once the FBI is there, to," his voice trailed off when another thought came to him, "he tried to kill me, Bones. He knew I was going to be there."

"You're tired," she sighed, barely paying any mind to his theory, brushing it off as frantic, medication induced paranoia, "you're mind is clouded by painkillers, and you had a really rough day. Please just try to go back to sleep."

"No, Bones, give me my phone," he insisted.

"It's four thirty in the morning! Who are you expecting to call?"

Booth relaxed a little bit, that little bit of information seeming to slip his mind.

"I'm not just saying this because I'm on painkillers, Bones, you gotta believe me."

"I do," she lied, not wanting to upset him, "I believe you."

"No you don't. I can tell when you're lying."

"Listen, Booth, I just think you should rest, and then think about it objectively either in the morning, or whenever you are feeling more yourself. I mean, why would Robert work with Bradshaw? He could very well be the person who killed his siblings."

"They have a common enemy now," he explained to her, "Robert knows that Bradshaw is older, and smarter, and can take me out easier. As long as Robert makes it look like he's cooperating with the FBI, he can go back, tell Bradshaw everything, and help him. In exchange for my death, Robert's giving Bradshaw his freedom."

Brennan thought about it. He was making sense. He didn't seem like he was rambling incoherently, the way he did when he talked about dying, or Sully, but this wasn't all adding up to her.

"Why would he care whether you lived or died?" She asked, "As far as he knows, we're not together anymore. You're no longer in the way. You should be irrelevant to him at this point."

Booth took a minute to think about it, the reason finally striking him.

"The worst thing we could have done was tell him that we broke up," he told her, looking at her seriously, "because now he believes I broke your heart, and, to him, that's worse than being in the way. He wants me to pay for what I did to you."

"Booth, I'm really not sure," Brennan's voice was wary, "if I go in there and start accusing, and it turns out he had nothing to do with this, he'll never cooperate with us again."

"We can catch Bradshaw without him," he touched her cheek gently, turning her head to face him, looking into her eyes with sincerity, "Bones," he softened his tone, seeing her eyes soften at the same time, "you have to trust me on this one. Robert Wilson tried to kill me," he knew he was using her emotions to play her, and felt just the slightest bit guilty, "he tried to take me away from you and our child. Don't let him get away with this because you think we might need more information from him."

Brennan bit her lip, his words getting to her.

"I," she paused, watching the way he looked at her pleadingly, "I, will talk to him."

"Promise?"

"I promise," she stroked his hair gently, "but only if you try to go back to sleep."

Satisfied with her terms, Booth simply nodded and closed his eyes, his head resting against her shoulder, and fell asleep to the feeling of her fingers running through his hair in a constant, lulling motion

* * *

Finally, Brennan was able to get more than an hour of sleep. Granted, it was only about two and a half, maybe three, but it felt like an eternity, compared to the broken sleep she was getting the entire night. And she probably would have slept even longer, if it wasn't for the damp sensation against her neck. Her eyes fluttering open, she tilted her head to the side, watching her partner kiss down the side of her neck for a few seconds before saying something.

"Good morning," she smiled, seeing him peek up at her charmingly.

He looked genuinely happy to see her awake.

"Hi," he smiled, pressing one last kiss to the side of her neck, "you're awake."

"I am now," she laughed lightly, "you know, kissing someone when they're unconscious and not intending to wake them up is a little creepy."

"I _was_ trying to wake you up, wise ass," he laughed, sounding much more himself than he had the night prior, "guess what?"

"There's no possible way I would be able to take an educated guess, considering you haven't given me any inform-"

"The doctor came in before, and she said I'll be able to go home tomorrow, as long as I 'take it easy'," he cut off her squinty rant so he could tell her the news.

"That's good news," she smiled, kissing his forehead softly, "you'll need me to come home to take care of you, so I'll start packing my things tonight."

"Bones, I can take care of myself, you don't have to come home."

Brennan looked at him seriously.

"I'm not leaving you there alone," she told him, "you can barely move, let alone stand and walk around. What if you fall and can't get up?"

"Okay, now you sound like a Life Alert commercial," he had to laugh, "and I'm not really planning on falling, so, I don't think it's a big deal."

"You'll be much better off with me there, just to take precaution."

Booth half groaned half huffed, rolling his eyes.

"God, you're annoying," he murmured, seeing her frown with disapproval, "fine, you can come home if you really feel that it's necessary. But I just don't think it's safe for you, that's all. Considering Robert Wilson and his tendency to stalk," he paused, "speaking of Robert Wilson, when are you going to talk to him?"

Brennan was hoping he'd forgotten about that.

"I told you last night, I'll talk to him today."

"You were just trying to shut me up. I knew you were going to try and get out of it today."

"I was not," she lied, "I'll go talk to him later, if that's what you want."

"Yes, that's what I want," he told her, looking up at the ceiling in thought, "I want someone with you though. I don't want you talking to this creep alone."

"There is no one to go with me," she told him, "if I had a gun, you wouldn't have to worry about me as much."

"Bones, for the last time, you do _not_ need a gun. You're going to be in a building filled with FBI agents, in an interrogation room."

"What about when I leave? He could follow me, and I won't be able to defend myself."

Booth rolled his eyes, taking a deep sigh before speaking again.

"I'll get Sully to go with you in the interrogation room."

"And?"

Booth paused, knowing that she knew she had gotten her way.

"And you can take the small gun out of the night stand," he saw her eyes light up, and quickly put a stop to her joy before she could go overboard, "Bones," his tone was warning, "the small one in the night stand. Do you understand? I know you know where the bigger one is, but do _not_ take that one."

"Why not?" She asked, disappointed that she only had access to the small one.

"Because I said so," he told her, seriously.

"That is not a satisfactory response."

"Well it's the only one you're getting. It's either the small gun, or nothing. Take your pick," he saw the way she looked at him with big, innocent eyes, "and you're innocent face is not working, just incase you were wondering."

"Fine," she huffed, knowing that just getting him to give her a gun at all was an accomplishment on it's own. She kissed his head before slipping out of the cramped bed and stretching out, "I'm going to go home and get ready to talk to Robert."

Booth nodded.

"Bones," he called her back before she could leave the room, watching as she turned to face him again.

"What?"

"Be careful, alright?"

"Okay."

"Promise me."

Brennan half smiled, seeing that he looked concerned.

"I promise."

**(Did any of you really think I was going to kill Booth? I'm not _that_ evil. xD)**


	96. I'm The One You Love

**A/N: Hi everyone. Just figured I'd tell you, I feel like I have narcolepsy lately xD Every time I went to work on this chapter at night, I fell asleep. It was strange, actually. But, anyway, I actually wrote it (between naps) so here it is. =] Thank you all for all of the comments and alerts and all that nice stuff. =]**

Chapter Ninety-Six:

"I'm The One You Love"

"Are you sure you don't want me to go in there with you?" Sully asked, watching as Brennan put her earpiece in.

"I'm sure," Brennan said, feeling confident to do this on her own, "if there's other people there he may be hesitant to tell the truth. He trusts me. I don't think he'll hold anything back."

Sully crossed his arms awkwardly, not completely certain that he felt comfortable letting her be alone in a room with someone who was stalking her.

"Booth thinks he set him up," he told her, unaware that she already knew of Booth's suspicions, "do you think he did?"

"I don't know," she said, honestly, "I don't have enough evidence to make a judgement."

"Booth thinks he's trying to get back at him for hurting you. I think he's just being paranoid. You know how he gets."

"Yeah," Brennan mentally bit her tongue, stopping herself from blurting out the truth to Sully, that they weren't actually broken up.

They both looked at each other awkwardly, unsure of what they wanted to say.

"You know, Tempe," Sully finally spoke after, what seemed like, an eternity, "I really am sorry about the way I reacted when I found out about you and Booth. I know it was a while ago, and you haven't talked to me since, probably _because _of the way I acted, but I was a jerk."

"Are you only saying that now because Booth and I are no longer together?" Brennan asked.

"No, of course not," he sounded slightly frantic, wanting to make sure she wasn't getting the wrong idea, "I mean, I just haven't seen you since then, and I was going to apologize to Booth, but I'm pretty sure he hates me, so, I didn't want to stir the pot."

"What pot?"

"The metaphorical pot. 'Stirring the pot' is figurative language for causing trouble," he explained calmly, in contrast to how Booth would have responded, by rolling his eyes and saying an annoyed 'never mind', "but, anyway, I really am sorry," he paused, looking at her cautiously, "and, by the way, I kind of, know you two are still together."

"How?" Brennan asked, caught off guard by the statement.

"Booth had to tell the FBI that you two needed to fake a relationship in order to fake a break up. Now he knew I knew about you guys, so afterwards, he came to me separately and explained the whole thing to me."

Brennan huffed, feeling a twinge of annoyance when she found out that he told Sully the real story, instead of just telling him the same thing he told Sweets. If he wasn't so severely injured, she knew she would have let him have it next time they spoke.

"Temperance, I'm sorry about what happened to Booth," Sully spoke again, when she didn't respond to his last statement, "I'm sorry you had to go through that. I know you must have been afraid," he paused, "you really care about him."

"I love him," she corrected him, "I, thought I was incapable, but I really do love him."

Sully half smiled, trying his hardest to be supportive of her feelings.

"You never did love me, did you?" He more stated than asked, keeping his tone light.

Brennan reluctantly shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Sully," she told him, honestly, feeling terrible for finally speaking the words to him, "I know you loved me. And I cared about you. I really did. I felt something for you, but, I didn't love you. Not the way I love Booth."

Sully nodded, feeling like a huge weight was lifted off of his shoulders once they finally got that out in the open. It was something that had been causing the two of them tension since he first returned to D.C., and now that it was settled, he felt more at ease. Brennan bit her lip, feeling sorry for being so blunt with him.

"May I hug you?" She asked.

"Yes, of course," Sully laughed, going to hold out his arms to her before she grabbed him and pulled him tight to her, taking him by surprise, "woah, okay," he laughed, rubbing her back gently, attempting to keep it as friendly as possible, "you alright?"

Brennan nodded, letting him out of her vice grip after a few seconds.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "the last few days have just been very stressful, and I needed that," she bit her lip again, feeling as if she was using him, "I, shouldn't have done that."

"It was just a hug," he laughed half-heartedly, "I think Booth would understand."

Brennan smiled gratefully, adjusting the ear piece that she already had in.

"I'm going to, go now," she laughed, awkwardly.

"Alright, you do that," Sully had to laugh as well, as she opened the door to go into the interrogation room, going to watch the whole thing from the two-way mirror himself.

Brennan shut the door behind her, noticing that Robert was looking at the floor, his hands clutching nervously at the sides of the chair he was sitting in. Brennan cleared her throat, making her presence known, as he looked up at her, only able to manage a nervous half smile.

"Temperance," he sounded genuinely surprised to see her there, "they told me I was going to be talking to someone named Agent Sullivan. Why are you here?"

"Sully couldn't make it, so they thought I would be the next best option," she shrugged, smiling with a fake warmth, as she took the seat across from him, "considering Booth can't be here."

"I heard he was in the hospital," Robert told her, his words making her chest burn with anger, for some odd reason, now feeling as if he had to be a part of this, "it was on the news. The grocery store where Donovan was squatting blew up. Is Agent Booth okay?"

"He's, not in very good shape right now," she lied, "they're not sure what's going to happen. It could go either way right now."

Robert looked surprised.

"He's dying?"

"I don't know," Brennan responded, making sure to keep her tone even, "I haven't talked to him much. That's all I know."

A silence took over them for a few seconds, as Robert half smiled.

"Maybe it's for the better," he seemed to be taking the near death of the FBI agent very lightly, "it's not like he was a great guy."

Brennan bit her tongue, making sure to process what she wanted to say through her mind before anything came flying out of her mouth.

"He wasn't necessarily good to me, but he doesn't deserve to die," she shrugged casually.

"Temperance, you're perfect," his words caused her skin to crawl, "you don't deserve to be hurt. Anyone who hurts you does not deserve you or anyone else," he paused, looking at her seriously, clearly changing the topic, "I would be good to you, Temperance. You wouldn't have to be afraid of getting hurt with me. I'm not like him."

"I know," Brennan knew she was never the best actress, but made sure to play the part of his friend well, as much as she wanted to take Booth's little gun out of her purse and shoot this kid at the moment, "but we can't be together, Robert."

She saw his knuckles go white when he clenched the side of his chair tighter.

"Is it because Agent Booth is still alive? Will he not let you be with me? Because, you're not his property. You do not have to listen to him."

"The law will not allow it," she sighed, "not until you are of legal age. It has nothing to do with Booth. Although, he has damaged me," she tried to look at him with big, innocent eyes, "he was the first man I ever gave myself fully to, and he just, threw it all away, as if it meant nothing," she tried her best to muster up a few tears, huffing and looking at the floor, "he made it so I don't want to trust anymore. I'm afraid to love now."

"I understand," he told her, seriously, "he needs to pay for hurting you."

"No, Robert, it's okay," she sighed helplessly, "I'm just being foolish."

"Temperance, he broke your heart," Robert seemed surprised that she didn't agree with him on this, "he's suffering now the way he should be, lying in a hospital bed in pain. He's hurting now too, only his pain is physical while yours was emotional."

Brennan lowered her voice to nearly a whisper, leaning closer to the teenager.

"You know what? You're right. He's getting what he deserves, the rat bastard."

Robert leaned closer as well, seeming to become more interested.

"If you want him dead, I have connections. I can have him dead by tonight."

Brennan bit her lip in thought, her tone slightly sultry when she spoke to him.

"No, I'd like to watch him suffer for a little while longer," she smiled deviously, running her fingers gingerly over the table, "whoever did this to him, blew him up, is my hero. There would be no possible way I'd be able to thank them. I'm just, counting down the minutes until he flat lines. Just, don't say anything, because if anyone knew I was wishing my partner dead, I would probably get fired."

"It's understandable, why you want him to die," Robert assured her, "if someone broke my heart like that, I would want them to die too," he promised, glancing around the little room, "so, if you just said that, that means, no one can hear us? No one is watching?"

"Of course not," Brennan laughed lightly, "well, I told Sully I wanted to do this alone. I know you only like talking to me, and I know you're not a dumb kid. You would have figured it out if someone was watching. I know you would have."

She saw his eyes light up and she smiled again, leaning closer to him once more.

"So, if I told you something right now, nothing would happen to me?" He asked.

"No, of course not. Why would I do that to you?"

"You wouldn't," Robert assured her, "I know you wouldn't."

"So anything you tell me in here will stay between me and you," her eyes were looking at him suggestively, flirtatiously trying to pry information out of him.

"I told Donovan to kill Agent Booth," he saw her tilt her head slightly in interest, her lips parted slightly, causing him to blush, "we have an agreement you know. I promise you, he will not stop until that jerk is dead," he looked at Brennan seriously, "Temperance, soon you'll get what you want. Agent Booth will be out of your life, and in a few years, we can be together. Then, after Agent Booth is dead, I'll help you catch Donovan. We'll be killing two birds with one stone."

Brennan felt guilty for not believing her partner when he pieced things together, pushing it off as his medicated mind fabricating a story, but made sure to keep her composure. And she felt as if she was doing a pretty good job not completely losing it when this kid just told her he tried to kill her partner, and would keep trying until the job was done.

"You know," her voice was low, almost lusty sounding, "I want you to call Donovan now. Make it official."

"Really?" Robert asked.

Brennan nodded, standing up and nodding towards the door. Following suit, Robert followed behind her as she opened the door, only to see Sully standing outside. With a charming smile, Sully held up his handcuffs, and Brennan turned to give him a grateful smile, relieved that she no longer had to converse with this twisted teenager.

"Robert Wilson, you're under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder," he said, keeping his tone low and serious, as he locked the handcuffs over the teenager's wrists.

Robert looked up at Brennan, his eyes looking a combination of angry, disappointed, and upset.

"You lied to me, Temperance," he said softly, causing chills to run up her spine, "how could you do this to me? I trusted you."

"Don't even respond to him, Brennan," Sully told her, starting to drag him away from her, even as his eyes stayed locked with hers, "come on, you little creep," he pulled harder on the handcuffs when Robert refused to cooperate, "Doctor Brennan's not going to save you."

With a disappointed expression, Robert's eyes bored into hers even as he tried to keep stride with Sully, who was holding him by the arm.

"I love you, Temperance," he told her seriously, seeing her tense up uncomfortably at the words, "don't look afraid. I love you. You know I do. I know you only did this because you had to."

Brennan simply watched them as they disappeared through the door, her heart beating hard against her chest as she looked at the floor, knowing even though they had Robert in custody, that all of this was still far from over.

* * *

Booth was sitting up straighter than he had been the night before, the pudding that he loved in his hand as he stared blankly at the basketball game on the TV, having no actual interest in the game, but nothing else to do. This was torture for someone like him, someone who hated to sit still. If he had to lay and rot, he would rather be doing it in the comfort of his own home.

"Booth?" Sully's voice pulled his attention away from the television, as he poked his head into the hospital room, "Can you handle some visitors right now?"

"Yeah, sure, of course," he groaned when he shifted to sit up all the way, placing the half eaten pudding and spoon back on the little table in front of him.

Sully stepped inside, Brennan following close behind.

"I brought someone for you," he half smiled when he saw how genuinely happy the injured Booth looked to see his partner.

"Hi, Bones," he smiled at his partner, receiving a small wave in response before he turned his attention back to Sully, "thank you for taking care of her."

"It wasn't a problem," he assured him.

Brennan rolled her eyes when the two men talked about her as if she was a toddler that needed babysitting, talking about 'taking care of her', as if she wasn't capable of doing that herself.

"I'm, gonna get going though," he told them both, "I know the two of you probably don't want me hanging around."

Brennan felt slightly guilty when Sully spoke as if he was just leaving before they could kick him out.

"Sully?" She asked, before he could leave, seeing him turn to look at her, "Maybe we could go grab a drink next week. Booth is getting released from the hospital tomorrow, so I figured we could go. The three of us, or even just the two of us, if Booth isn't feeling up to it."

"I'll have to see what's going on at work," he seemed genuinely surprised that she was inviting him anywhere, especially after he said the things he did the day she had kissed Booth in front of him, "but if I'm free, then definitely."

"Okay," Brennan smiled when he did, "give me a call when you find out."

"Sure," he smiled, holding his hand up in a wave to both of them, "take it easy, Booth."

"Not that I really have a choice," Booth said, bitterly, not towards Sully, but his entire situation. When his fellow FBI agent left, he looked up at Brennan, confusion in his eyes. "You can't drink," he reminded her, "you're pregnant."

"Then I won't drink alcohol," she shrugged, "there's no rule saying that you must purchase alcohol at the bar."

"And since when are you and Sully so cozy again?" He asked.

"We're not cozy, I was just doing the right thing," she looked at her partner curiously, slightly amused, "are you jealous, Booth?"

"Of course I'm not jealous," he scoffed, feeling Brennan's lips press affectionately to a cut on his forehead as she half smiled down at him sympathetically, "he's Sully, for God sakes."

"You say that like Sully is some kind of joke," she observed, still feeling a sense of amusement when she saw that her partner was in fact jealous of her ex, "all of your cop buddies call him peanut, you know. And cop names are all ironic, meaning-"

"Alright, alright," Booth held up his hand before she could continue the 'peanut' story, "let's keep the conversation up here," he exchanged points between their eyes, "there's certain things that just stay under your hat, Bones. And that is definitely one of them."

"You know, you never did tell me your cop name," she reminded him.

"Because it's none of your business," he smiled charmingly, "and by the way, yes, I'm feeling much better. Thank you for asking."

"I never asked that," Brennan was confused when he responded to the question she never asked, "but I was curious. Was today any better than last night?"

"Well, they let me walk around a little, and Hodgins stopped by before," he shrugged, "not the best day of my life, but definitely not the worst either," he paused, realizing neither her or Sully ever told him what happened before, "hey, how'd it go with Robert Wilson anyway?"

Brennan felt like a fool when the thought completely slipped her mind. That was the reason she was there anyway. And she was planning on telling him with Sully, before he ran out of there like a bat out of hell.

"You were right," she admitted, "he had an agreement with Bradshaw. He promised me though, that once you were dead, he would help me put Bradshaw away," Brennan arched an eyebrow in confusion when she saw the small smile on her partner's face, "I don't understand why you look so happy. He was going to _kill_ you."

"Because you just said that I was right," he smiled, seeing her roll her eyes.

"That's what you're focused on right now?" She asked, having to smile, "Are you still on painkillers, by any chance?"

"Yes I am," he laughed, taking her hand to look into her eyes seriously, his change in mood taking her by surprise, "go sleep at Angela's tonight, okay?"

"Why?" She asked, "You don't want me here?"

"Of course I want you here. But I'm not going to make you sleep in a hospital bed again, okay? I'll be home tomorrow, so I'll see you then. But you need a good night's sleep in a real bed, and so does the baby."

"The baby doesn't know whether I'm sleeping in a real bed or a hospital bed," she told him, feeling just the tiniest pinch of confusion, "it doesn't even have a functioning brain yet."

"Bones, enough," he warned, "what did I tell you about all the 'it's not a baby' crap?"

Brennan opened her mouth to defend herself, but decided against it, not having the strength to argue with him, and not wanting to argue with him when he was the way he was.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, leaving it at that.

"No need to apologize," he assured her.

With a small sigh, Brennan brushed a hand through his hair and leaned down to kiss his forehead softly once again, kissing his cheek afterwards.

"Don't start sighing and getting all emotional on me," he laughed lightly, tapping under her chin, forcing her to look up at him, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Alright," she kissed the corner of his mouth, "tomorrow," she paused, running her fingers absent mindedly through his hair, "and, just so you know, there is nothing for you to be jealous about when it comes to Sully."

"I know," he promised her, "I'm the one you love."

"Yes," she had to smile, kissing the corner of his mouth once again, "yes you are."


	97. I'll Just Leave You Guys Alone

**A/N: Happy Bones Day everyone =] Hope you all enjoyed tonight's episode as much as I did =D Anyways, without further ado, here's the next chapter. And I'm actually working on my other story, 'Come Clean' again. Writer's block has not been kind to me with that one, but I think I'm breaking it a little. =] **

**And of course, thank you for the feedback. =] Here's some fluff as a reward.**

Chapter Ninety-Seven:

"I'll Just Leave You Guys Alone"

That night, the bed in Hodgins and Angela's guest room felt like the most comfortable bed on the planet. In comparison to the cramped hospital bed, it felt like something made for royalty, when, in reality, it was just a simple full sized bed. Brennan figured that may have also had something to do with the fact that she was so exhausted, she could have slept like a baby on the floor. She didn't even bother to change out of her button down blouse and dress pants when she returned to Hodgins and Angela's, just simply laying out on the bed and closing her eyes. At about eleven thirty at night, a knock at the door of the guest room pulled her out of her half sleep, and, curiously, she stood up to see who was outside. Before even saying a word, she wrapped her arms around her partner, hearing him grunt in pain when she squeezed him just a little too tight, loosening her grip and apologizing.

"Booth, what are you doing here?" She asked, unable to control the smile that was forming on her lips, "I thought you were leaving tomorrow?"

"I convinced the doctors to let me go early because I have a case to work on," he smiled charmingly, holding up the case file that was in his good hand, "Angela came and picked me up, then we drove over to the FBI to get the case file, and now, here I am."

Brennan smiled back at him.

"You're so persuasive," she laughed, "only you could charm your way into leaving the hospital early."

"Well that's kind of what I do," he laughed with her, using his good arm to take the sling off of his dislocated shoulder, in order to have more mobility with his left hand, "alright, let's work on this case, shall we?"

"Well now that Robert is in custody, we can probably get him to tell us where Bradshaw is. We just have to threaten him with a longer sentence than he would have gotten originally. Or you can just threaten to shoot him. That's usual-"

She was cut off mid speech when her partner's lips smothered the noise coming out of hers. Without hesitation, Brennan hooked an arm around his neck, pulling herself closer as his hands went immediately to her waist, keeping her body pressed to his as they kissed. Finding the strength to pull away, she looked up into his eyes, laughing in a breathy tone.

"I'm sorry," Booth apologized with a small laugh as well, "I just, haven't kissed you in a while."

Brennan laughed again, unwrapping her arms from around his neck.

"I don't believe I ever complained," she reminded him, "the apology is unnecessary. I find that I wanted to kiss you as well."

"Good," he laughed awkwardly, unsure as to why she was making him nervous all of the sudden, "well, now that, that's settled," he held up the case file, "we should probably, you know, do our jobs."

"Yes, we probably should," she agreed, taking the case file from his hand and sitting on the edge of the guest bed, able to feel his arm brush against hers when he took a seat next to her.

She opened the file, pictures of the three bodies at the crime scene causing her to shiver. They were so small, and even though she had been working with the bodies of the three small children for a while, seeing them laid out near the side of the river, being guarded by yellow tape, made her uneasy. She quickly tucked the pictures into the back, clearing her throat.

"We should put our notes together," she suggested, reaching under the bed to pull out her duffel bag, which contained her notes.

"I left mine on the kitchen counter," Booth groaned in frustration.

"I'll get them," Brennan offered, "you probably shouldn't be wandering around. You're still in a lot of pain, and you need to rest in order to heal."

She laughed when he smiled, wondering why, all of the sudden, things were awkward between them. Things were never awkward with the two of them, and nothing happened, so she didn't know why they were tense, and laughing every few minutes, and making sure to sit a small distance away from each other.

"I'll go get your notes now, if you want me too."

Before she could even take a breath after she spoke, his lips were back against hers, gentle, yet urgent, as he urged them apart. Brennan happily complied to his demands and parted them willingly, sighing against his mouth when she felt the warm wetness of his tongue against hers. Her arms snaked carefully around his waist, making sure not to apply too much pressure to his injured rib cage when she pulled herself closer. And then she knew why they felt awkward in the moments leading up to the kiss. They hadn't been together in almost a week. They wanted each other. As much as she didn't want to, she had to stop it.

"Booth," she shook her head, disconnecting their lips, "you're injured. You can't."

"I can't?" He asked, with a small, breathless laugh, "I beg to differ."

He leaned forward to kiss her again.

"I'll hurt you," she protested, "unintentionally, of course, but regardless, it will not end well. I would try to be careful, but I find it's hard to control myself when it comes to you."

"What the hell are you talking about?" He asked, feeling hopelessly confused by that point, finally catching on to what she meant, "Bones, I don't want to go that far. I know I'm not in any kind of shape for that right now. I just want to kiss you."

"Oh," Brennan laughed, feeling slightly embarrassed, "I just, didn't want to hurt you. And, I just figured we probably shouldn't, you know, in Angela's guest bed. It seems a little unethical."

"So, in your father's guest bed is fine, but Angela's is a no-no?" He asked.

"Well, I mean, I don't know," she wasn't sure why she would have found it worse to have sex in Angela's guest bed than her father's, "I guess because, I don't know, it's Angela. And the bed is right against she and Hodgins' wall. They would probably be able to hear."

"And then we'd never hear the end of it," he laughed.

"Even though Angela would love it," Brennan added in, her smile bright as she leaned her head affectionately against his good shoulder, "I missed you," she looked up at him, as if she were seeking his approval, "can I share something with you?"

"Of course."

"I, was afraid, on my way to the hospital, that once I got there you would be dead," she saw the look of confusion in his eyes, "the last thing I told you before you left was that you were irritating. Not that I love you, or that I care about you. That could have been the last thing I ever said to you. That you were annoying," she swallowed the dry feeling in her throat, "if you did die, and I was never able to tell you that I loved you again, and that happened to be the very last thing you heard me say to you, I would never have been able to forgive myself."

"You don't have to worry about it," he told her, touching her face gently, "I'm here, alright? And I'm fine. Well, as fine as I'm going to get. And if, for the sake of the argument, I did die before you could take it back, I wouldn't want you to worry about it. I know you love me, even when I annoy you. We all say things we wish we didn't."

"Booth, you would have died thinking that I was angry with you," she turned her head so he could no longer reach her cheek, "that's not how I want it to happen. I want you to know how I feel about you, always. I don't ever want to leave you on hateful words again."

"That makes two of us," he smiled, "I promise you, Bones, we will never walk away from one another on a harsh note again, if that's what you want."

"Yes, that's what I want," she smiled back, feeling his index finger run gently under her chin, the way one would pet a cat.

They were quiet for a little while, simply looking at one another, finally able to enjoy the other for the first time in a few days without having to worry if someone was coming and was going to bust in on them.

"May we start kissing now?" She asked, with a small laugh.

Booth didn't respond with words, instead, he just leaned close, watching as her eyes fluttered closed, allowing her to feel his breath against her lips. Growing impatient, she leaned in herself, closing the small space between their lips, feeling his hand immediately move to cup the back of her head, his fingers tunneling into her hair. Brennan slid carefully into his lap, feeling his other hand slip up the front of her shirt, longing for skin contact, even though that hand couldn't journey too far up, considering he could barely lift his arm. She mimicked his actions, running her thumb over an old scar on his torso, feeling him tense slightly under her actions. Disconnecting their lips, she moved hers to his neck, kissing a slow path down the front of his throat.

"I missed you," she sighed against his skin, repeating her words from earlier, running her tongue over the skin she had just whispered on.

"Bones," he groaned quietly, "explain to me why kissing you still makes me feel like a horny teenager."

"If I knew, I would tell you," she laughed, pressing her forehead to the base of his neck, "but you happen to do the same to me, and I'm not entirely sure why."

Booth took her face between his hands, pulling her back up to meet him face to face.

"Well at least it's not just me," he smiled.

Brennan nodded in agreement, feeling unsatisfied with the lack of lip contact at the moment, leaning up to claim his lips once again. When she felt him go to lay her on her back, she quickly stopped him.

"You're going to hurt yourself," she told him, pulling her lips reluctantly from his, "you can't put weight on your left shoulder. And why aren't you wearing your sling?"

"I don't need it all the time," he ignored her protests and laid her effortlessly to the mattress, "and I do have another arm, you know."

Brennan wanted to stop him again, but couldn't find the words when he leaned down to kiss her again, his weight resting on his right forearm as his left hand moved to tangle into her hair the best it could. Her hands found their way back to his neck, running her fingers through the back of his hair as well. When Hodgins opened the door to give Booth his notes, neither of them were sure if they'd been kissing for five minutes or five hours, but having a guest wasn't enough to stop them that night.

"Hey, I just thought I'd–woah, okay, never mind" he cut himself off when he saw the two of them wrapped up in their passionate kiss, surprised to see the supposedly ex lovers in such an intimate embrace.

Both of them heard the voice of their colleague, but chose to ignore him, their lips never breaking contact for even a second.

"Do you, need these?" He held up the notes, speaking slowly and awkwardly. He expected them to stop when they realized they had company, and he was flustered when they didn't. "Well, I mean, it doesn't look like you do right now so, I'll just," he went to place the notes on the night stand next to the bed, "leave these with you, incase you decide to, you know, work."

Brennan tilted her head up to disconnect their lips, deciding she should say something, feeling her partner's lips slide effortlessly off hers and to the line of her jaw.

"Hodgins," she half growled, cupping the back of her partner's head gently as he kissed over her skin, "leave."

"Yeah, sorry," he shook his head, backing back towards the door, "I'll just, leave you guys alone. If you need anything, like a glass of water, or, I don't know, a condom, Ange and I will be in the next room."

Brennan had stopped paying attention again, holding Booth close to her as he nipped gently at her skin, causing a soft moan to escape her lips. And with that, Hodgins closed the door behind him, walking the short distance back to him and Angela's room, watching her in admiration as she gracefully got herself ready for bed.

"Hey, handsome," she turned to smile at him, her hair falling in waves over her shoulders when she tugged it out of the hair tie it had been in.

Hodgins smiled in response, needing to clear his head.

"Brennan and Booth are...back together."

Angela furrowed an eyebrow in curiosity.

"What makes you jump to that conclusion?" She asked, "Because, I told you, Booth isn't here personally. They're working on the Wilson case."

"Well what they were doing in there was fairly personal," he had to laugh, "I mean, unless sticking their tongues down each other's throats is part of an experiment."

"I don't think so," Angela laughed, "maybe they're just having a little angry sex," she shrugged, seeing the look in his eyes, knowing he was by no means stupid, and was not buying it "I mean, I guess it's alright to tell you, now that the little creep is behind bars," she saw the look of confusion in his eyes, "yeah, Brennan and Booth never actually broke up. She was being stalked by that Wilson kid, so they had to pretend they did. And then it turned out the Wilson kid was even more loony toons than everyone thought, because he tried to have Booth killed."

"Oh," Hodgins ran a hand over the hair on his jaw in thought, "but what I don't understand is why they didn't just tell Robert they broke up. Why'd they have to lie to everyone else?"

Angela gave him the 'are you serious?' look, placing her hands on her hips.

"It's Brennan," she said, simply, "she always has to make things ten times more difficult than they need to be."

"That's true," he laughed, "I've known her for years, and, for some reason, I still ask these things."

Angela smiled cutely, stepping in front of her fiancé and placing her hands on his shoulders, before sliding them down to his biceps.

"Well, getting back on the previous subject, I for one do not think we should let Brennan and Booth have all the fun," she smiled suggestively, "I mean, if they get to conduct an experiment in there, then it's only fair that we do too."

"I vehemently concur," Hodgins placed his hands on her waist, kissing her cheek softly, causing her to smile, "you're perfect, Ange."

"So I've heard," she laughed, taking her turn to kiss his cheek, "you only tell me every other day."

"Well then, maybe I should start telling you everyday," he suggested, "I don't think I'm getting my point clearly across."

Angela smiled.

"For now, I think I'd rather be shown than told."

* * *

Spontaneous combustion was impossible. Brennan knew that for a fact. But right about then, she had to wonder if maybe she'd been wrong. The room was dimly lit, only one small lamp turned on, their harsh breathing was the only sound in the room, their breath caressing one another's lips, and when Booth slid his finger under the first button of her blouse, she was surprised that she didn't combust right then and there. She could feel her heart pounding against her chest, unsure as to why the moment was so intense. They'd made love before. They'd done it numerous times. But, for whatever reason, having her partner, who was so injury ridden he could barely lift his arms, attempting, and struggling, to undress her, was one of the most erotic moments of her life, the feeling of his hot, heavy breathing against her lips not helping any.

"God dammit," he murmured when the button refused to give way, the two words jerking her out of her trance, even though she never took her eyes off of his fingers. He tugged at the small button in frustration, "God, I want you, Bones."

Brennan whimpered slightly in response to his words, turning her head to the side so his breath touched her cheek, afraid that if she didn't, she might burst into flames. She knew they shouldn't be doing this, not only because Booth was going to hurt himself, but because they were in her best friend's house, but she couldn't find the words to stop him. Attempting to get her bearings, she toyed with the watch around his wrist, simply watching his hands.

"You want it off?" He asked, figuring, by the way she toyed with the metal, that she wanted him to remove it.

Brennan shook her head, her words still swimming in her mind.

"Have I rendered the great Doctor Temperance Brennan speechless?" He asked, a cocky smile taking over his features.

"No," she managed, the one word finally causing the rest to flow. She gently pushed his hand away from her shirt. "Stop. Stop trying to take my clothes off."

"Why?" He asked, his voice smooth as velvet, "Because it's making you hot for me?"

Brennan closed her eyes and took a sharp breath in. She was never able to resist him when he got all alpha male-ish like this. Once his primal instincts began to take over, he was irresistible to her.

"You want me?" He asked.

Brennan nodded, her lips slightly parted in concentration.

"But," she quickly objected, when she felt his hands move to her dress pants, "we can't."

Booth groaned and rolled off of her onto his back, wincing in pain when he did so.

"Can you just let me have this one, please?" He pled with her, "I know you don't want me to get hurt, and that's all well and good, I appreciate it, I really do, but I really doubt that I will get that severely injured from sex."

"You're the one who said before that you're not in any kind of shape for it," she reminded him, turning onto her side so she could look at him.

"Yeah, well, I changed my mind," he never looked away from the ceiling when he spoke to her, "that was before the pain pills kicked in. They took me off the Morphine button a few hours before I left, and it felt like my entire body was splitting in half. Needless to say it took a little while for the pill to start working."

"We should just, wait," she felt bad for turning him down, especially when he knew how much she actually wanted to do it, "maybe a week. Just to make sure you're well."

"A week?" He closed his eyes in frustration.

"Booth, I'm certain you can go a week without sex," she rolled her eyes at how dramatic he could be.

"It's not a matter of whether I can or can't, but I think Seeley Jr. here might have some objections to that."

"I think you're capable of keeping 'Seeley Jr.' in your pants for seven days."

Booth turned back over onto his side, feeling Brennan move her hand to his arm to stop him from leaning too much weight on his rib cage. Ignoring her, he placed his hand on her stomach, kissing the crook of her neck softly.

"Mama's killing me, little guy," he laughed, seeing her face light up in a small smile when he looked up at her, "it's a boy."

"There is no way you could possibly know that," she laughed.

"Sure there is. I've got my gut, Bones. And my gut tells me that it's a boy."

"Your gut is inaccurate," she told him, "there's no way your 'gut' can predict the sex of a child."

"I've got my ways, Bones," he reminded her, wrapping an arm around her waist, his head resting in the crook of her neck, "you've got your ways, I've got mine."


	98. None Of This Was Your Fault

**A/N: Hello. =] I (surprisingly) don't have much to say for this chapter, other than to thank you all for the support throughout this fiction. I think it may just be because I'm tired, and dreading having to go read for school. xD Well, enough of my problems. Enjoy. =]**

**And on a side note, this chapter was supposed to be posted like two hours earlier. But I'm an idiot, and after I uploaded the file, I totally forgot to post the chapter. *face palm*. I swear, for someone who's somewhat intelligent, I do really stupid things. xD**

Chapter Ninety-Eight:

"None of This Was Your Fault"

Brennan shook out her key chain, searching for the newest addition to her collection of keys, the one to Booth's apartment. She glanced over to her partner, who was hunched over, his left arm in a sling and his right hand pressing to his side, as if he were trying to hold his body together. Half smiling sympathetically, Brennan unlocked the door, stepping inside and holding it open for him, receiving a quiet thank you in response.

"You can lean on me if you need to," she told him, closing the door behind her.

"I'm heavy," he reminded her.

"It's not like I've never had your weight on me before," she laughed lightly, "and, besides, you're not even that heavy. I've felt heavier. You must think you have a lot more muscle mass than you actually do."

"Are you kidding me?" His voice sounded lighter and more playful this time around, "I'm _all_ muscle, baby. Just for you. Pretty soon, you know, maybe after our one year anniversary, I'll stop working out, since by then I'll know you love me for my wit and charming personality, not my body."

He let go of his side to pinch her cheek playfully.

"You better not," she laughed, pushing his hand away from her face, "you need to be able to keep me physically satisfied."

"Hey, I won't have as much stamina, but quickies are good too," he joked.

Brennan simply laughed, shaking her head as she examined him.

"You need to shave," she stated.

Booth instinctively touched his jaw, realizing only then how badly he really did.

"Well, I was kind of in the hospital for two days," he reminded her, "I need to shower too, and to start drinking."

"You cannot drink while you're on pain medication," she told him sternly, making sure that they were clear, "alcohol and painkillers react very poorly together. You may end up back in the hospital needing to get your stomach pumped."

Booth had to laugh and roll his eyes, seeing Brennan cross her arm in irritation.

"Aw, you really do love me," he concluded.

"Because I don't wish death upon you?"

"Because you're being all overprotective-ish," he kissed her cheek softly, "you love me."

"I don't remember ever denying that," she quickly threw something out there to satisfy him, gently pushing him away from her, "and you are officially not allowed to kiss me again until you shave. Your beard is scratching me."

"Right," he laughed, touching his beard again, "sorry. I'll get on that."

"Do you need help?" She asked.

"No, I think I can shave myself, thanks," his voice was playfully sarcastic, earning him an eye roll, "don't roll your eyes at me, Bones. I'm just making light of everything, that's all. You don't have to worry about me. Sure I'll need help with some things, but simple things like shaving, I can do, alright?"

"Okay," she looked at the ground, feeling slightly ashamed for treating him like an invalid, "but, if you do need help, you'll tell me, right?"

"Yes, I promise" he was going to kiss her, but then remembered he was forbidden until he shaved, "you know, Bones, I never had you pinned as a worrier."

"I'm not a worrier," the look in her eyes was disapproving, "I'm just, concerned for your health and safety."

"You do realize that what you just said was completely contradictory, right?"

Brennan attempted to think of a snappy response, failing miserably.

"Go shower."

Booth smiled, stopping himself from leaning forward to kiss her again.

"Can I have a kiss first?" He asked innocently.

"Once you shave, I will kiss you as much as you'd like," she smiled, kissing his bicep softly before gently pushing him away from her and towards the bathroom.

* * *

"You know, all of this doing stuff with one hand thing isn't as hard as it looks," Booth glanced at Brennan over his shoulder when he dabbed on his aftershave, "it takes some getting used to, but after a few minutes, it's like second nature."

Brennan joined him in the bathroom, slightly taken back when she realized just how bad his injuries looked when they weren't covered by the fabric of his shirt. There were many more cuts and bruises than she imagined, and the sight of the mangled skin caused her to shudder, remembering when she looked that bad after she was kidnaped.

"Is that the aftershave I got for you?" She asked, needing to make small talk.

"Yeah," he told her, struggling to get it on with one hand, "I told you I liked it when you first bought it. I wasn't lying."

"I know," she looked at him with sympathy before stepping next to him, taking the aftershave off of the sink, "come here, you need help," she had to laugh softly, putting some on her hands and dabbing his face when he turned to her.

"You know, I'd at least like to keep the illusion going that I can be self sufficient," he told her, light heartedly, "you make me feel like a cripple."

"This isn't permanent, Booth," she reminded him, tugging his face down to hers to press a soft kiss to his lips when she was finished, "in a week or two, you'll have complete mobility of your arm back, and you won't feel babied anymore."

"I just, feel like an idiot," he admitted, "I mean, you had to help me get dressed this morning. I love you and everything, but, that's embarrassing, having to have my girlfriend dress me. It makes me feel stupid or something."

"It's not a matter of stupidity," she had to laugh lightly at his self consciousness, knowing he would probably object, but having to throw the suggestion out there, "it would be wise of you to let me examine you and gauge your injuries."

Booth looked surprised, as she let go of his face to cap the bottle of aftershave.

"No, absolutely not," he laughed, "I was in the hospital, Bones. The doctors, they already checked everything that needed to be checked. I trust them."

"More than you trust me?" She asked.

"Let's not make this about you and I and trust, okay?"

"Booth, all kidding aside, the doctors in the hospital are not as smart as I am. And, objectively, I probably have more knowledge of the human body than they do. I just want to check, for safety sake. This way if there _is_ anything they missed we can take care of it."

"You are not a medical doctor. I don't think I should let you treat injuries on me without a doctor's okay."

"If I wanted to be a medical doctor, I could be," she looked at him with innocent eyes, "I guess if you don't trust me enough to allow me to take care of you..." her voice trailed off, playing the guilt card very well, "you know, I let you bring me back here without any medical attention at all after I was abducted, and you're not even as qualified as I am to treat injury."

"You were traumatized!" He reminded her, "That hardly counts," he paused, feeling slightly guilty when she brought up how she felt as if he didn't trust her. Sighing, he gave in. "You know what, Bones? Go ahead. Check. But you're not going to find anything."

She tried to conceal the smile that was forming on her lips.

"Okay," her voice was lighter now, "can you hold your arms out? I know you can't really, but as best as you can."

Reluctantly, Booth opened his arms, keeping them low, since his shoulder couldn't really handle much more than he was already doing. Right before she went to touch him, he stopped her, twisting his body slightly away from her hands.

"Bones," his tone was warning, and she stopped to look at him, "just, be careful, alright? Be gentle."

"Don't be nervous," she laughed, placing her warm, smooth hands on his skin, right above where his boxer shorts started, "you may feel some slight pain every now and then, but I'm going to try to apply as little pressure as possible."

Booth closed his eyes, bracing himself for the intense pain he was expecting, pleasantly surprised when she only applied a minimal amount of pressure to his waist, only enough to feel what she needed to feel. Normally, Brennan was not the most gentle person, but she was making sure to be extra cautious, not wanting to hurt him any more than he already was.

"My father wants us to go to his house for dinner this week," she told him, moving her hands up slightly to the bottom of his rib cage, applying careful pressure.

"How come?" He asked, never opening his eyes as he spoke to her.

"Russ and Amy are coming in to town. He wants to do a family dinner," she told him, moving her hands up a little more, as he finally relaxed, and his eyes fluttered open, "I tried to explain to him that we aren't a family. That we're simply two people seeing one another, but he told me to stop being so uptight."

Booth was hurt when she talked about how they weren't a family, but decided to keep it to himself.

"He's right, you should stop being so-ow! God! Bones!"

He felt the pain when she was at the middle of his rib cage, applying pressure to his bruised skin, trying to be careful, but apparently not being careful enough.

"Shh, sh, I'm sorry," her voice was frantic, kissing his lips to smother the sounds of discomfort he made, "but I think you may have a fractured rib right here," she ran her index finger over the rib through his skin, "I'm going to have to press on it again to make sure."

"No," he told her, quickly, "hell no. No way I'm letting you touch me ever again after that."

"It's the only way it will get better," she told him, ignoring his protests, just applying the gentle pressure again when he wasn't paying attention, quickly covering his lips with hers when he shouted again, "sh, shh, it's okay," she murmured against his lips, as she pressed on the fractured rib, "I know it hurts, Booth, but it needs to be treated," she quickly silenced him with her lips again when he made another sound.

After only a few more seconds, she removed her hands from his torso and leaned away from him, allowing him to breathe.

"Do you have adhesive tape?" She asked.

"It's possible," he sounded a combination of highly annoyed and in pain when he spoke, "Christ, Bones, there was no better way you could have done that?"

"I'm sorry," she apologized again, searching through the medicine cabinet until she found what she was looking for, ripping off a piece to wrap from the sternum to the end of the injured rib where it met his spine, "I can't believe the doctors missed this."

"Well I wasn't letting them feel me up the way you just were," he reminded her, watching as she applied the tape to make sure she wasn't going to cause him any more intense pain the way she just had, "which I'm totally blaming on the painkillers, by the way. If I was in my right state of mind, I would have never let you squeeze my rib cage."

"I wasn't squeezing," she huffed lightly, applying the last of the tape, "and besides, you'll be thanking me later when you don't have a rib fracture."

"Funny enough, I can't imagine myself thanking you for that any time in the near future."

Brennan simply rolled her eyes, placing her hands back on his rib cage.

"I need to check the rest of you," she said, starting to press lightly again.

Booth wanted to push her away, tell her to stop and never to put her hands anywhere near him again, but he knew it would be in his best interest to find anything else the doctors may have missed. Closing his eyes again, he braced himself, never relaxing this time around.

"So, what do you think?" Brennan attempted to distract him, resuming their topic from earlier.

"About what?" He asked, taking a harsh breath in.

"About going to my father's house for dinner. Either Thursday or Friday."

"Yeah, sure, fine. Not like I can really do anything else."

Brennan laughed lightly, reaching his chest after, what felt to Booth, like an eternity.

"He wants you to bring Parker too."

"Why?"

"He likes him. Says he reminds him of a young Russ."

"You know, I'd like to hope that my kid won't end up in jail, or on parole," he grunted when she came into contact with an injury, "no offence, I know that's kind of like the–ah, jeez–Brennan family business."

"Insulting my family will not make your pain any less," she told him, brushing his hurtful words off easily.

"I know, I know. That was uncalled for," he admitted, breathing a sigh of relief when her hands left his skin, "sorry."

"You're in pain. It's understandable that you would get snippy," she half smiled, kissing the top of his chest softly, "no other injuries that I can feel. I think it's just the rib."

Booth looked down at his now taped up rib, then back at Brennan.

"Shouldn't I like, go to the hospital for this, or something?"

Brennan shook her head.

"No need. I can handle a simple rib fracture," she shrugged, "now if you fractured more than one, and were having trouble breathing because of it, then I would take you to a hospital. But just one slight fracture is easily treatable."

"It didn't feel very slight when you were practically killing me," he told her.

"You're such a baby when you're in pain," she had to laugh and roll her eyes playfully, kissing the front of his throat softly, "but as much of a baby as you can be, you're still the bravest man I know. And it bothers me to see you cut up and bruised with fractured and dislocated body parts while Donovan Bradshaw gets to walk around free."

Booth smiled softly, cupping the side of her face gently.

"Donovan Bradshaw is not walking around free," he promised her, "he's in some old, dirty, abandon building somewhere in D.C. or Virginia squatting because he knows the FBI is looking for him. He can't hide forever, Bones, alright? We'll catch him."

Brennan sighed as he stroked his thumb over her cheek bone.

"And Robert Wilson," she whispered, "he, tried to kill you. If he succeeded, there would have been two children in this world who had their father ripped away from them by some psycho," she saw him tense slightly in response to her words, "how would I have explained to our baby that it would never know it's father because of me?"

"Because of you?" Booth asked, taking her hand gently in his other one, since he couldn't reach it up to cup her face completely, "Bones, baby, this was not your fault," he saw her chest shake with a single silent sob when he spoke, "I promise you. None of this was your fault."

Brennan quickly got herself together before she could begin to sob freely, feeling moisture building in the corners of her eyes as she spoke.

"If I never came up with the stupid idea to 'break up' none of this would have happened," her voice cracked slightly at the end of her sentence, "I almost got you killed. I should have just listened to you when you told me it was a crazy idea."

Booth took his hand off of her face and let go of her hand to wrap his good arm around her waist and pull her close, allowing her to press her forehead against his chest as he stroked her lower back comfortingly.

"None of us knew what was going to happen," he whispered, keeping his tone gentle when he spoke to her, "okay, Bones? There was no way you could have known he would go this far."

Brennan let out a long breath, sniffing slightly.

"It could have been prevented," she whispered.

"Hey, what's done is done," he kissed the top of her head when he realized she wasn't going to look up at him, "it's okay, Bones. Everything is okay. We're both fine, and we're going to have our baby in eight months, and everything is going to be perfect, okay?"

Brennan nodded against his chest reluctantly.

"Okay," she whispered, but knew good and well that perfection wasn't going to come to them that easily.


	99. What Am I Thinking Now?

**A/N: Hello. =] I've really gotta do homework, so I'm gonna make this quick. But some drama is comin' your way in the next chapter. ;]**

**And the songs used in this chapter were "There Goes My Baby" by Usher and "Amber" by 311. Yes, according to me, Booth listens to Usher and 311. xD I know I do, so now he does too.**

Chapter Ninety-Nine:

"What Am I Thinking Now?"

Booth's mind slowly drifted back into focus when he felt his partner's, or at least he hoped it was his partner's, hand reaching for his, taking it and placing it on her waist as she leaned back against his chest, making sure to avoid the fractured rib. He was about to let himself drift back into a peaceful sleep until he felt her take his hand again, moving it to the top of her thigh.

"Good morning, Bones," he felt her jump, knowing she had been caught.

"Good morning," he could hear the embarrassed, meek tone in her voice, "how long have you been awake for?"

"Long enough," he laughed lightly, "what are you doing?"

Brennan shrugged, never turning to face him.

"I don't know," she respond, honestly, "touching you."

"More like making me touch you. Let me ask you this, Bones. Do you take advantage of me often while I'm asleep? Or was this a one time thing?"

"Don't pretend you care," she laughed, finally turning to look at him, "but, if you must know, normally I just touch you. But I didn't want to today, considering your condition, so I settled for second best."

"I can live with that," he smiled, smoothing a piece of her mussed hair down for her.

Brennan smiled back, pressing her forehead into the crook of his neck, letting out a small, content sigh as his fingers brushed through the tangles in her auburn locks.

"Ready to go to my father's later?" She asked, picking her head back up to look at him.

"That's tonight?" He asked.

"It's only been three days since I told you about it," she laughed lightly, "don't tell me you forgot already."

"No, I didn't forget, but I _did_ forget your corsage. I'll have to go buy it later."

"Don't be a jerk," she had to laugh, sitting up and slipping out from under the covers, stretching out once she was standing. She turned to look at him over her shoulder, "Are you watching me, Booth?"

"Yes I am," he admitted unashamedly, getting out of bed as well, seeing no point in staying if she was going to get up, "you look incredibly sexy in the morning."

Brennan tossed her hair for effect, deliberately teasing her partner, shaking it through her fingers to allow it to fall over her shoulders. She only made a small sound of surprise and laughed when he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her to him.

"Are you teasing me?" He asked, his voice low in her ear.

"Me?" She asked, innocently.

"No, the other temptress in the room."

If he didn't have a fractured rib, she would have elbowed him.

"I am not a temptress just because you're easily turned on."

"You know something, Bones? I'm pretty damn proud of myself for being as good as I've been this week."

Brennan tilted her head back to look at him in confusion.

"You are aware you still have to wait three more days, right?"

"Don't remind me," he muttered, looking down at her, "I think I should get off punishment early for being so well behaved."

"This isn't punishment, Booth. It's precaution," she rolled her eyes, but kept the smile on her face, making sure that he didn't mistake her words for being rude, "I need a release too, but I think waiting is better than being reckless and putting you back in the hospital."

"Bones, I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I won't get hurt from sex," he rolled his eyes now as well.

"You're rib is fractured. Remember how badly it hurt when I pressed on it? Now imagine that times twenty."

Booth winced at the thought.

"You're being too cautious," he concluded, "if I'm not worried about it, then why should you be?"

"Because, I believe 'Seeley Jr', or 'Little Seeley' or whatever you named it, is doing your thinking for you."

He huffed, holding her close, even when she seemed like she was getting annoyed with him, and wanted to be let go.

"Fine," he said, not seeming too pleased with it.

"Fine?"

"Yeah, fine. I don't want to argue with you."

"You know, I really hate when you say that. It's just your way of saying that I'm irritating you and you don't feel like talking about it any longer."

"Wow, Bones, you must be a mind reader. Quick! What am I thinking now?"

Brennan rolled her eyes and wiggled out of his grip, turning to face him, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at him sternly.

"You know, Booth, I'm trying to be understanding. I get it, that you're hurt, and you're probably angry, because people were planning to murder you, but I am your partner. You do not have to take out your anger, or pain, or what ever you're feeling on me," she paused, seeing his expression soften, "I've been helping you with things you are incapable of doing with one arm, and keeping you company when I could very easily be going out and hanging out with Angela, or getting work done at the lab. So stop. Cut it out. If you want to be angry, be angry at Robert, or Bradshaw, not at me."

It took Booth a minute to process her words, feeling immensely guilty when she pointed out how ungrateful he was acting. He, somewhere in the back of his mind, knew that he wasn't treating her as kindly as he should have, but he was not expecting her to notice the change in his attitude. But now that she did, there was no hiding from it.

"I'm sorry," he told her, honestly, "you're right."

"I know I am," she uncrossed her arms, relaxing a bit.

"I've been a jerk, and I'm sorry," he looked at her, as if he was expecting an answer, "I don't want you to think I don't appreciate everything you've been doing for me."

"I know you do," she mumbled, "I think sometimes you get carried away by emotion though."

"I think, you might be right."

Brennan smiled, taking his hand, simply because she could.

"I love your heart, Booth, and your ability to 'put it into overdrive', as you taught me, but, sometimes you just need to step on the brakes a little."

"Aw, Bones, you just used nonliteral language on me," he smiled charmingly, pulling her gently by the hand to come closer, "you're such a sap."

"I, do not like that word," she concluded, with a small smile, breathing in the scent of him, the sweet smell only making her want him more than she already did, "listen. I'm going to go to the lab for a little bit before tonight," she let go of his hand so she could go find something to wear, opening one of her drawers to find a pair of dress pants and a blouse, "can I trust you to be ready by seven?"

"Of course," he told her, "I'm not a little kid, you know. I'll get ready without you looking over my shoulder."

"I'm just making sure," she said defensively, replacing the shorts she was wearing with the dress pants, "I don't want to come back at seven and find you laying on the couch with a beer watching the Four Stooges."

"It's the Three Stooges, Bones. There's only three of them."

Brennan was hardly paying attention, as she attempted to button her pants.

"And that's beside the point. I'll be ready, I promise," he only realized that she was not paying attention to him after he was done speaking, "Bones, what the hell are you doing?"

Brennan let go of the button with a huff.

"My pants won't button," she told him, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

Booth was ready for her to have a hormonal, emotion meltdown, and was thoroughly surprised when she simply shrugged and removed the pants, replacing them with a different, slightly larger pair that buttoned up easily. She looked down at her legs, smoothing the fabric down, and started on her shirt.

"That's all?" He asked, "You're not going to cry or anything?"

"No, of course not," she seemed confused as to why he would think she was going to, "why would I? They're just a pair of pants. I've come to terms with the fact that my body is going to start changing. A pair of pants no longer fitting is nothing to get upset over."

"Wow, Bones, leave it to you to still be rational even when you're pregnant."

Brennan smiled as she finished buttoning up her blouse.

"Don't worry, I will become irrational later," she half joked.

"Oh, I can't wait," his voice was sarcastic, as Brennan simply ran a brush through her hair and grabbed the things she needed to go do a few hours of work.

"Be ready by seven," she reminded him quickly, before leaving the house and starting on her way to the lab.

* * *

Somehow, Brennan knew when she arrived home at seven that he would not be ready the way he was promising he would be. And her point was proven when she opened the door to the apartment, greeted by the sound of running water from the shower. Huffing, she made her way over to the bathroom door, stopping in front of it.

"_I've been waiting all day to wrap my hands  
__around your waist, and kiss your face.  
__Wouldn't trade this feeling for nothing, not even for a minute_."

Brennan paused, leaning against the doorframe, simply listening to her partner mumbling the Usher lyrics in the shower. He had a habit of singing in the shower, and, for some strange reason, she loved it.

"_And I'll sit here, long as it takes  
__to get you all alone.  
__But as soon as you come walkin' my way  
__you're gon' here me say,_"

She leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes as she listened to him. Admittedly, he didn't have the best singing voice, but just hearing the slightly sensual lyrics in the voice of her partner was enough to please her that day.

"_There goes my baby.  
__You don't know how good it feels to call you my girl.  
__There goes my baby.  
__Loving everything you do,  
__ooh, girl, look at you._"

Her heart fluttered, for reasons she was unaware of, and she let out a deep sigh. She knew there was no way the whole 'week without sex' was lasting past that night. When the water, and his voice, stopped, she jumped slightly, feeling as if she'd been caught, even though she knew she hadn't been.

"Booth?" She attempted to hide the obvious want in her voice, "You almost done?"

"Yeah, I'll be ready in a bit,"he called to her, wrapping a towel around his waist.

"'A bit' is not a reasonable time frame," she huffed, placing her hands on her hips in irritation, "how long?"

"I don't know," he sounded irritated now as well, "ten, fifteen minutes?"

"Until you're out of the bathroom or until you're ready to go?"

Brennan jumped when the door to the bathroom opened, seeing her partner poke his head out to look at her seriously.

"Stop," he tried to keep his words serious, but wound up smiling at her, "I'll be ready when I'm ready."

The door closed again and Brennan leaned back against the wall outside it, watching the wall across from her blankly as she waited for him. Unaware that she was still outside, Booth began to mumble different song lyrics to himself as he got dressed.

"_Woah, amber is the color of your energy.  
__Woah, shades of gold displayed naturally.  
__You ought to know what brings me here.  
__You glide through my head blind to fear  
__and now I know why,  
__woah, amber is the color of your energy.  
__Woah, shades of gold displayed naturally_."

Brennan simply listened to him as she waited for the door to open. And when it finally did, and her partner emerged from the bathroom, she wasted no time before stepping in front of him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. Even though he was surprised by the sudden affection, he kissed her back, his hand moving to cup the back of her head gently. After only a few seconds, Brennan broke the kiss, moving her lips to his neck, continuing the song he had been singing while he dressed, mumbling against his throat.

"_You live too far away.  
__Your voice rings like a bell anyway.  
__Don't give up your independence  
__unless it feels so right.  
__Nothing good comes easily.  
__Sometimes you gotta fight._"

Booth was thoroughly surprised that she even knew the words to begin with. He'd made her listen to 311 a few times, but he never believed she was actually listening, let alone learning the words. With a small laugh, he continued for her, both of them barely noticing that he was slipping the buttons of her shirt open.

"_Woah, amber is the color of your energy._"

He pushed the shirt gently off her shoulders, feeling her hands move to the buttons on his shirt in response as she took over with the singing.

"_Woah, shades of gold displayed naturally_."

She felt herself being urged towards the bed, parting the fabric of his shirt once it was unbuttoned, his husky voice taking her by surprise when he continued the back and forth.

"_Launched a thousand ships in my heart, so easy.  
__Still it's fine from afar, and you know that._"

His words were smothered when her lips pressed back to his, removing the shirt from his body, making sure to avoid making any contact with his injured shoulder. Finally speaking the first real words since the encounter, Brennan barely recognized her own voice, lust and desire altering her tone.

"I should be on top," she whispered, her fingers moving to the button of his pants.

"Why?" He asked, his lust clouded mind unable to follow her logic, as he simply laid on his back, doing as she wished.

"Because you'll be in less pain," she said simply, undoing the button on her own pants when she realized he wasn't going to, before straddling his waist, "it'll be better for you."

"You just want to be on top," he accused.

"I'm only concerned with your safety right now, Booth."

She moaned softly when his hands ran up her sides to the material of her bra, leaning down to capture his lips once more. Almost as if on cue, the sharp ringing of her phone pierced the intimate feel of the room.

"Don't answer that," he mumbled against her lips.

"I wasn't planning on it," she responded, yanking the zipper of his jeans down.

They continued the kissing and touching, both silently relieved when the phone stopped ringing. But it was only quiet for a few seconds before the ringing started up again, and Brennan could tell by the way that Booth disconnected their lips and let out an annoyed sigh, that this was not going to happen.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, reaching over to pick her phone up off the night stand, pushing her hair over one shoulder as she answered, "Brennan."

She shivered when his hands never stopped caressing her stomach.

"Tempe?" Russ' voice sounded panicked over the phone.

"Russ, we're on our way," she sighed, assuming he was calling to see where they were, "Booth just has to finish getting ready."

Her fingers traced down her partner's chest as her brother spoke.

"Tempe, some blonde FBI woman just came to the house," Brennan stopped the movement of her fingers over Booth's skin when she heard the words, "he was arrested for murdering that gang leader who kidnaped you."


	100. I'm Here To Stay, Forever

**A/N: Yay! 100 Chapters! =D I feel like this is some kind of milestone. xD So, in 'celebration', I guess, I did a pretty emotional chapter for you all.**

**I'd really appreciate the reviews on this one. I know I haven't been getting as many lately (not really sure why xD) but, with this chapter, I would really like to know how I did, since this is one of the more emotional chapters I've written. So if you could take five minutes to review, what you liked, what you didn't like, it would be greatly appreciated. =]**

Chapter One Hundred:

"I'm Here To Stay, Forever"

Max Keenan was behind bars. That seemed to be where he spent most of his time. And as Brennan looked in at him, her eyes looking dead and vacant, and her mouth pressed into a tight line, he could almost feel his heart ache. His own daughter giving him that look of disapproval made him realize what a terrible father he was for the first time. He knew it was wrong to leave her the first time, but he also knew that it was what had to be done. But this time, he just let her down. He promised he wouldn't leave her again, and he did.

The cold quiet between them was almost unbearable, and the three of them, Brennan, Max, and Booth, barely made eye contact with one another until Max broke the silence.

"Sweetheart," he saw her shoulders tense when he finally spoke, "I know you're not going to believe me-"

"You say that like I have no reason not to trust you," her tone was harsh and cold, "all you've done my entire life is let me down, Max. And I finally thought you were ready to change. I was willing to forget everything you did and forgive you, because Booth told me that you wouldn't kill again, and because you seemed genuine, but I should have trusted myself. You're a con man. Convincing people that you're a good man, and don't mean any harm is what you do. And as much as I hate to say it, Sweets was right. You are a sociopath."

"Tempe, you know I love you," Max was hurt by her words, but made sure to keep his voice soft, trying to calm her down, "and you know I would kill for you, but I swear to you, I did not kill this man."

"You're only saying that because Booth is here!" She exclaimed.

"If I did it, I would tell you, and Booth. But I didn't."

Brennan simply sighed in frustration, feeling tears sting her eyes.

"Why should I believe you?" She asked, rhetorically, "You're a compulsive liar."

"I know I'm not a good man, Temperance, but I did not kill Miguel Villeda," he insisted.

Booth wasn't going to try to convince her to actually listen to Max, since he sounded genuine, but chose not to, in fear that he would start a fight. The only reason he was even there was to comfort her. None of this was his business, and as much as hard as it was, he stayed out of it.

"Just stop with the charade, dad," she said, lowering her voice, sounding more defeated than angry at this point, "we all know you did it. There is no one you need to convince, because we all know what really happened. You were trying to protect me, the way you always are, and you murdered him. I know it. Russ knows it. And Booth knows it."

"Hey," Booth spoke his first words, cutting that off before it could start, "I don't know anything," he held his hands up, as if saying that he was innocent, "I'm only here to be with Bones. This has nothing to do with me."

Brennan turned to him, confusion in her eyes.

"You told me you thought it was Max."

"Number one, I never said any names, and number two, that was all speculation. I had no evidence. I was just guessing based off of past events."

A single, frustrated tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away with her arm, feeling as if nobody was on her side. Even Booth, who was only there to comfort her, was taking her father's side. She figured if he was arrested for murder, then the hard ass cop part of Booth would automatically stop him from siding with Max, but apparently, she was wrong. Apparently he didn't care if her father brutally murdered someone.

When he went to put his arm around her waist comfortingly, she pushed it away.

"Don't," she warned, "I thought you, of all people, would be on my side."

"I'm not on anyone's side," he assured her, trying to make it clear to her that he didn't want to get involved with her family drama, "Bones, you know I love you, but I honestly don't know what happened. And I can't just take your side because you're my girlfriend. I'm trying to give Max the benefit of the doubt here."

Brennan quickly wiped away another trickle of water off of her cheek, attempting to keep her tears under control. She wasn't even mad at this point. She just needed someone to comfort her, and stick by her through this, which Booth, so far, was failing to do.

"Dad, I honestly thought after your trial, you learned your lesson," she told him, with a small sigh.

"I swear to you. I swear on your mother's grave, I did not shoot Miguel Villeda."

Brennan closed her eyes, a few tears falling freely now as Max gripped the bars in front of him, wishing that she would just stop being so stubborn and understand. When Booth touched her shoulder gently, Brennan subconsciously leaned into his touch, as much as she didn't want to, allowing him to rub it gently and whisper words of comfort.

"Why can't you just be the father I need you to be?" She asked, calming down slightly when Booth rubbed her shoulder, but not nearly enough, "Max, I can not love a murderer. I was willing to forgive you for murdering the deputy director of the FBI, but now you've just gone too far. You want to do something for me? You don't have to kill the man that kidnaped me. All you need to do is be my father."

"Temperance, I don't know what I have to say to get you to believe me," he was losing hope, seeing that, no matter how he worded it, she was not going to listen, "I didn't shoot that man. There is no other way I can put it."

Kicking the cement floor with the tip of her shoe, she sighed and shrugged Booth's hand off of her shoulder, not feeling in the mood to deal with either of them at the moment. She couldn't stand that her father broke her trust yet again, and she couldn't stand that the man who was supposed to love her was taking his side.

"I'm so sick of all the lying," she said softly, the small voice sounding almost foreign to all three of them, "I just wish this family was honest with each other. None of us can trust each other, and that's not supposed to be how a family works."

"You can trust me," Max assured her, "I'm telling the truth, sweetheart."

"Well, based on the history of this family, I'm going to take it upon myself to assume that you are lying, the way you always do," she took a step back from the holding cell, knowing she was not going to be able to speak with him much longer before she exploded, "I'll see you at your hearing, Max. We're not going to have any communication before that."

Max was going to say something, but before he could find the words, she was already leaving. When Booth went to follow after her, he quickly stopped him.

"Booth," he called, before he could get too far away, seeing him turn to face him once he heard his name, "please talk to her."

"I will," Booth told him honestly, since he was planning on trying to talk to her about it once she cooled down anyway, "you have to understand, she's just upset. She doesn't mean anything she's saying."

"Well, she sounded like she meant it," he smiled half heartedly, trying to stay positive through all of this, "you believe that I didn't kill this guy, right?"

"I don't know," Booth wasn't going to lie, "I know what you're capable of."

"Well, it doesn't matter if you believe me, or if Tempe believes me, because I know that I did not pull that trigger, and I won't get convicted for something I didn't do."

"Let's hope you're telling the truth," Booth said, simply, still not wanting to side with either of them quite yet.

Max caught his attention again when he tried to leave for the second time.

"Take care of her, Booth," he said, sounding more serious this time around, "continue to be good to her, because she loves you. I know it."

Booth wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that.

"I will, Max," he promised.

"You're the only man she trusts. Don't let her down, okay, son?"

"You have my word."

"And, if she needs to cry, or be angry, just, be there for her. She may not admit it, but she needs you right now."

"I know, and I will be."

Max half smiled.

"You're a good man, Booth. I want that for her. If she doesn't want to be a part of my family, the next best choice would be for her to be a part of yours. Marry her, son."

Booth was a little surprised that Max made such a request.

"I, want to marry her," he told him, the words related to that topic having not left his mouth since the last big fight they had, almost opening the floodgate of everything he'd been holding in for the last few weeks, "I asked her to marry me, because I love her, and I want a life with her, but, she doesn't want to."

"She'll come around," Max sounded certain of this, "if there's one significant thing she inherited from me, it was her damn stubbornness, but, she'll realize eventually that it's what she wants. As long as you don't push too hard, I guarantee it. That's just the way she is."

"I don't know," he sounded unsure, "she was pretty adamant about her decision."

"I've known her since she was a baby. She'll come around. Just give it time."

Max's words reminded him of what he once said to Brennan about everything happening eventually, and how you just had to give it time. Maybe he was right. Maybe Brennan would come around and decide that she wanted to marry him.

"Thank you, Max," he said, before finally leaving to go catch up with his girlfriend.

* * *

The couple drove in silence for the next ten minutes of the ride back to Booth's apartment, only the occasional sniff of Brennan and the rain tapping relentlessly against the windshield audible in the pitch black car, as she shoulders shook with a silent cry. Booth had tried to console her while he was driving, but she had snapped at him, so he decided to just let her let everything out. Finally unable to bear the small crying sounds she was making, he spoke up for the second time.

"Do you want me to put on the radio?" He asked, keeping his voice soft.

Brennan shook her head with a small sob, her head leaning back against the headrest of the seat, her eyes closed as tears streaked down her face. The only source of light on the road, which was practically in the middle of nowhere, since Brennan had asked to take the long way home, was Booth's headlights, and the occasional lights of another passing car.

"Bones," he kept his tone soft, "I hate seeing you like this," she didn't respond, "do you want me to pull over?" Still no response from the anthropologist.

When she failed to answer him, he just pulled over anyway, putting the car in park on the side of the pitch black road, dead grass crunching under the wheel of the SUV when he did. He waited patiently for her to talk, but she didn't, only continued to cry, her hands occasionally moving to wipe her tears, only to be replaced by new ones. Booth wasn't sure he'd ever seen her cry that much. Sure, she'd cried harder before, but never for that long of a time, at that consistent of a pace. Even though it was a silent cry, tears still soaked her cheeks.

"Bones?" He asked, trying not to grow frustrated when she refused to answer him, "Baby, somehow I feel like this is about more than just Max being in jail."

His words only caused a small audible sob to leave her lips, as she quickly sniffed and wiped the tears up.

"Bones, please," he softened his tone more than it already was, "why won't you talk to me?"

Brennan breathed in a deep breath, only to let it out in a long sigh, finally speaking her first words since she snapped at him when they first got in the car.

"I don't need you," she whispered, her voice sounding almost ashamed, "I am a strong, confident, self sufficient woman."

"You're pushing me away," he tried not to be hurt by her words, knowing that she didn't mean them, "you're going back to the way you were before we got together. You're putting your walls back up, Temperance. You have to let me in."

"I. Don't. Need. You," her voice was sharp, but still quiet, as the rain started to pelt the windshield harder, "I don't need you, or Russ, or my father. I was fine on my own."

"Okay, you don't need me," Booth was willing to let her have her way, seeing that she wasn't going to listen to him at that moment, "happy?"

When he went to take the car out of park to start driving again, he was startled by the sound of her voice, the sharpness and confidence gone, only the sound of her sadness evident.

"I lose every single person I love, in one way or another, whether they're taken away from me, or they let me down, or I let them down, I lose every single one of them," the car remained in park as Booth tried to read her facial expression from the side and in the dark, "it's only a matter of time before I lose you too."

"Hey," his tone was comforting, as he touched her arm softly, "you're not going to lose me, Bones. I promise. I'm here to stay, forever."

Brennan shook her head, the tears coming a little faster now.

"You can't promise me that," she told him.

"I can promise you until the day I die," he tried, moving the hand on his good arm to stroke her cheek gently, her tears wetting his hand, "I will be with you, and hold you, and love you, until the day I die," he looked at her seriously, "okay?"

Brennan nodded, taking another deep breath.

"You shouldn't be driving with a bad shoulder," she whispered.

Booth had to laugh lightly. Even when she was having an emotional breakdown, she still managed to worry about him.

"I'm fine," he promised.

Without warning, Brennan grasped his face gently between her hands, pulling him down for a soft, sensual kiss. He could taste the salt from her tears on her lips as he urged them apart, hearing her sigh in contentment when she tasted his tongue in her mouth. His hands smoothed down her sides, hers framing his face as they kissed, the rain outside setting their pace as the windshield wipers swiped furiously at the water coating the window. When Brennan finally disconnected their lips, Booth felt almost hollow, as if he needed to be kissing her to survive at that moment.

"Booth," she whispered, her voice clouded with desire, "I need you to make love to me."

"Okay," he said softly, stroking her waist gently, "we will."

Brennan shook her head, seeing that he thought she meant when they got home, her hands moving to his biceps.

"Here," she said softly, her voice meek, "in the back of the SUV."

"Bones-"

"Please," she cut him off desperately when he started to explain why they couldn't, "I need you, Booth. I don't want to wait until we get home. I need to make love to you now."

Booth could see the raw desire in her eyes, seeing that she wasn't just trying to have kinky sex in the back of the SUV, but that she honestly did not want to wait until they got back home to make love. Her breathing hitched when he took her hand, unbuckling his seatbelt at the same time.

"Alright," he whispered, "come on."

Brennan followed him into the back, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt before settling on his back, allowing her to carefully straddle his waist. She was disappointed when he left the shirt on his shoulders, but understood that it was for the sake of allowing them to redress faster when it was over, making sure they didn't get caught undressed in the back of his car by anyone passing by. Her fingers traced over his stomach, allowing him to open her shirt as well, his fingers moving to mimic the same actions. Making sure to avoid his injuries, Brennan leaned down to kiss him again, his hand not hesitating to move from her stomach to tangle up into her hair, pressing her mouth gently into his as they kissed.

She immediately went for the belt buckle, letting it drop to the floor of the SUV once it was discarded, their lips never leaving one another's as he unbuttoned her pants as well, feeling her shift to help him rid her of them. She unbuttoned his in return, pushing them down as he lifted his hips to help her. He moved his lips from hers to run his tongue along the outer shell of her ear, causing her to moan, her nails digging into his abdomen.

"Booth," she moaned, her breathing heavy and erratic.

"Bones," he groaned in return, the rain pounding relentlessly against the SUV doing nothing to calm their want and need for one another.

When his hand moved back to her stomach, she gently swatted it away.

"No," she mumbled against her partner's lips, feeling them kiss down the line of her jaw when their kiss was broken, "no more foreplay tonight," she whispered, "I need you now."

Booth looked at her, wanting to make sure this was what she really wanted.

"You sure?" He asked, "none of this first?"

Brennan shook her head, tracing the skin right above where his boxers started with her index finger.

"No," she whispered hoarsely, "I love you, Booth. I want to make love right now."

* * *

They'd redressed each other as soon as they were finished, only their shirts remaining open as Brennan rested her head against Booth's chest, the feeling of his fingers running comfortingly through her hair relaxing her. She let out a deep sigh against his skin, her index finger circling his naval as she stared blankly at the back of the driver's seat. She always imagined if and when they finally made love in the back seat of his SUV, that it would be fun and playful. But this was the polar opposite of that. There was no laughing, or playfully poking and teasing, only pure need, desire, and love.

Brennan's eyes traveled to his face when he kissed the top of her head softly, his fingers never stopping the constant motion through her locks of auburn hair.

"You okay?" He asked gently.

Brennan nodded weakly.

"I'll be fine in a little while," she whispered back, "I just, need time to deal with all of this," she looked up at him fully, "thank you, Booth. For not making me wait."

"You're welcome," he kissed her temple tenderly, "I know the difference between you trying to be adventurous with our sex life and needing the comfort."

Brennan sighed, feeling somewhat content, her mind turning back to him.

"Does your back feel okay?" She asked, "These seats are small, and there is probably a seat belt somewhere digging into you."

"I'm fine," he promised, sitting up with her still in his lap, rubbing small, comforting circles into her back, "mmm, come on, baby. Let me get you home."

Brennan nodded once again.

"That would be satisfactory."


	101. Don't Ever Bring Up Joseph Booth Again

**A/N: Hello. =] First of all, thank you for the feedback on the last chapter. I absolutely love getting and reading your reviews. It inspires me to write faster. xD**

**Secondly, I actually had no idea what I wanted to do with this chapter at first. It all kind of came to me last night. Love it? Hate it? Tell me what you think. =] It's a little angsty in the beginning, but it's worth it in the end.**

Chapter One Hundred One:

"Don't Ever Bring Up Joseph Booth Again"

Once they were back in the apartment, wet from the rain and physically drained from their stop on the side of the road, they wanted nothing more than to just change into something warm and dry, and go to sleep. Booth pushed the door behind him closed with one hand, the other hand on the small of his partner's back.

"You want me to run you a bath or anything?" He asked, as she shivered uncomfortably in her soaking clothes.

Brennan looked at the floor as she spoke.

"I'll just go change into something dry," she said softly, turning to go to their bedroom.

Before she could go far, one of Booth's hands cupped her hip, pulling her gently to him, noticing how she avoided eye contact, looking at his chest as opposed to his eyes.

"Bones?" He asked, keeping his voice low, moving his hand to cup the side of her neck tenderly, "Do you want to talk?"

Brennan bit the inside of her lip, looking up at him when she felt his hand at her neck, feeling a shiver run up her spine when she saw the way he looked at her, half concerned and half lovingly.

"Max is a liar," she finally voiced her feelings to him on the subject of Max for the first time, "I, don't want to believe him, but, somewhere inside, I think I do."

"That's normal," Booth assured her, "he's your father, and you love him."

"He's also a murderer," she reminded him, "maybe if he killed and then felt some sort of remorse it would be different, but it's the fact that he can brutally murder people and feel no guilt at all that makes me angry. Not only is his conscience clear, but he can look me in the eyes and lie about it. That is not what makes a good father."

"Everything he does, he does for you and Russ," he told her, seriously.

Brennan bit her lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood, closing her eyes in frustration. She was growing very tired of him refusing to just take her side, like any normal boyfriend would.

"So he's an excellent father?"

"No, Bones, you know that's not what I mean," he slid his hand from her neck to her shoulder, "Max has done some bad things, and maybe he's not the world's greatest dad, but he loves you and Russ. He tries to be a good father, but his definition is just a little different than most people's."

"He may be the only person in the world who thinks that murdering people is the way to be a good father," she said, bitterly, "I don't know how to get that across to him."

"We don't know for sure if he killed anyone yet," Booth attempted to bring some light into the situation, but saw by the look on her face that she wasn't having any of it.

"Please," her voice was slightly more animated now, "you and I both know he did it."

"I thought you were all about evidence?"

"Here's my evidence, Booth. Max Keenan is a liar and a murderer. If I believed that he was innocent now, I'd be an idiot. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me."

"Okay, how do you even know that phrase? Angela?"

"I'm really not in the mood for your jokes right now," she tried to push away from him, only to have him capture her by the waist again, "why do I feel like you're holding me prisoner?"

"Because, I'm not letting you run away from me," he told her, "I know this is what you do when you're upset, you push the people close to you away, but I'm not going to let you do that. I need you to know that I'm here for you."

"I know you are, but _you_ need to understand that I don't want you smothering me," she huffed in frustration, "I need time alone. You try to understand how I feel, but you don't. Your father may not have been a good man, but he didn't kill people, and then lie about it."

"Yes, because getting drunk and beating the crap out of your kid is so much better than telling a lie," he raised his voice a little, hearing her bring up his father causing him to grow annoyed with her, "Max loves you, Bones. That's more than I can say for my old man. Max cares so much about you that he does things that he shouldn't, while my dad could barely remember my name through all the liquor, let alone that he was supposed to love me. Compared to some people, you've got a pretty good father, Temperance. So stop. Don't ever bring up Joseph Booth again."

Brennan felt extremely guilty when he reminded her exactly how terrible his father actually was. She couldn't believe she let the little quip about his father slip out.

"Booth, I'm sorry," she tried, nearly choking on her words, "I, shouldn't have brought him into it."

"Don't," he mumbled, his tone warning, as he let go of her waist, "you feel better now? Now that I'm upset too?"

"No, of course not," she grabbed his forearms, taking her turn at trying to pull him back to her, "I love you, Booth."

"Well you sure have a funny way of showing it," his body language was tense, "I will just never understand why you always have to cross the line. I know you're upset, and I'm trying to help you, but you just, make it so difficult to be nice to you."

"Booth, please," she tried again, "I love you. Don't ever question that," she looked pleadingly into his eyes, "I'm sorry. I know I crossed the line with the comment about your father, but, I really can't afford to have you mad at this moment," she paused, feeling idiotic for instigating a fight the way she did, "you're all I have right now."

Before he could respond she leaned in to kiss his neck softly, feeling hurt when he seemed to pull away from her, but then realized it was only because she had taken him by surprised. She watched as his eyes fluttered closed, and his arm moved to circle her waist gently. Brennan leaned her head against the crook of his neck, sighing deeply.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again.

"It's okay," he whispered, never able to stay mad at her when she gave him that breathy 'I'm sorry'.

"I don't know why I alienate every person I care about," she sighed.

"You don't," he assured her, holding her close, allowing her to just vent into his neck.

"I don't know why you love me," she sighed again, "all I do is hurt you."

"Bones, you and I both know that's not true."

Brennan kissed his shoulder softly, sliding her hand down his forearm to take his.

"Tell me you love me," she requested, moving her lips to press a feather light kiss to his Adam's apple.

"I love you," his eyes closed again, almost on instinct.

"Again," she whispered against his skin.

"I love you, Bones."

Brennan kissed the line of his jaw softly, only to feel him tug gently on her hair to bring her lips to his. She parted her lips as soon as their mouths met, allowing him the access she knew he was going to be seeking momentarily. When their tongues met, she felt his hand move to the back of her neck, attempting to unclip the chunky necklace that hung around her neck, making sure that he had the decorative necklace and not his St. Christopher medal before he proceeded with his actions.

"I want you," she murmured against his lips.

He only nodded in response, struggling with the necklace. Just as Brennan was about to help him, she heard something snap, and they both gasped as beads came crashing loudly against the wood floor.

"Shit," he mumbled against her lips, feeling her push him gently backwards towards their now shared bedroom, "I'm sorry, Bones."

Brennan simply shook her head, disconnecting their lips to kiss his jaw line again as they made their way blindly to the bedroom.

"It can be replaced," she whispered against his skin, pushing the door open when they reached their destination, pushing him gently inside and closing it behind them, flicking on the light as soon as they were inside.

They wasted no time undressing each other down to their undergarments, taking a few minutes to admire the other's exterior, something they had no time to do in the back of the SUV only about an hour prior. The first time he'd undressed her, Booth was expecting smooth, flawless, white skin, only to be taken aback when he saw the scars she held. It was not a bad thing, just, unexpected. In his fantasies, she was flawless. But in reality, she had physical and emotion scars, the same way he did. Brennan had the same reaction to seeing his scarred body the first time she'd undressed him too, even though neither of them would ever tell the other.

Now he knew every imperfection of hers, as his hands skimmed over her waist, able to feel the marks exactly where he knew they were. She shivered under his touch, wrapping an arm around his neck and taking a step back towards the bed, making sure he minded his shoulder when he laid her down gently and move on top of her, resting all of his weight on his good arm. When he stared at her body, as if he were mapping it out, she felt slightly self conscious.

"What?" She asked, subtly moving her arm to cover a scar on her stomach.

Booth shook his head, pushing her arm gently away, revealing her to him once more.

"Nothing," he whispered, stroking her hair gently as he looked into her eyes, "you're just...you're beautiful."

Brennan blushed, swallowing the dryness in her throat.

"So are you," she smoothed her hand over his good shoulder.

"I love you," he kissed her temple softly, ghosting his lips down over her jaw line and to her neck, never actually kissing the skin.

Brennan whimpered softly and tilted her head up in response.

"I love you too," she promised, moaning softly when he finally kissed her neck.

She let out a harsh breath through her nose when his lips moved from her neck to her clavicle to the top of her chest, nuzzling the skin there softly.

"Booth, please," she whispered, feeling him skip over the material of her bra to kiss her stomach softly, the hand he was not resting his weight on moving to press softly against her back when she arched up to meet his lips.

She whimpered again, biting her bottom lip and squeezing her eyes shut when his tongue traced gently over the path he'd just kissed down to her naval.

"Booth, I-I'm sorry I brought up your father before," she rambled incoherently, "I-I'm sorry I always h-hurt you. Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve you. I just, love you, so much, and it's hard for me to-"

She stopped when his hand left her back to press his finger gently to her lips.

"Shh," he hushed her gently, "it's okay, baby. I know."

"P-Please, don't call me baby," she managed.

He was pretty sure that was the first time she'd ever asked him to 'please' not call her baby. Normally she just snapped at him.

"Bones," he corrected himself, feeling her hands move to tangle gently in his hair, "you mean the world to me. I don't ever want you to feel like you aren't good enough for me."

Brennan shook her head.

"You deserve better than me."

"No. I'm perfect for you and you're perfect for me. We fit each other."

"I, guess," she agreed weakly.

Booth cupped the side of her neck gently, moving back up to kiss her lips tenderly, taking it upon himself to show her how much he loved her that night, knowing she needed it.

* * *

When they laid awake that night, Brennan's head resting against Booth's chest as his fingers ran absentmindedly through her hair and over her shoulders, they were silent for a while, only the sound of their quick breathing filling the room. When Booth finally caught his breath, he spoke to her quietly, not wanting to break the feel of the room.

"You know what I've been thinking?" He asked softly.

"How could I possibly know what you've been thinking?" She asked.

She squirmed when he pinched her ribs gently in response to her smart ass comment.

"I love you," he smiled, kissing the top of her head softly.

"Is that what you've been thinking?" She asked, looking up at him curiously.

"No," he laughed lightly, "well, I mean, yes, but that's not what I was talking about. I've been thinking, when the baby comes, we're not going to have that much room in here."

"In our bed?"

"Bones, could you stop being literal for five seconds? No. I mean in the apartment."

"Right," she dragged out the word, nodding her head, "I understand. I've been thinking the same thing."

"Really?" He asked, surprised that they were actually on the same page with something.

"Yes," she told him, honestly, "we barely have enough room now. Certainly there isn't room for a baby," she paused, kissing his chest softly, since it was the only place she could reach at the moment, "I've been thinking, we should get a place, like Angela and Hodgins did."

"You're screwing with me, right?" He asked.

"No, of course not," she promised, "why would I make that up?"

"I'm just honestly surprised that we were thinking the same thing."

"Because it's scientifically improbable?"

"No, because we never agree on anything."

"That is also true," she propped herself up on her elbows, feeling him kiss softly across her shoulder, "we should look for a house then, since we both agree that we need a place with more room to raise a child. We can get a nice, cozy, little place, like Hodgins and Angela's."

"With a huge, flat screen TV, and a pool the size of Kentucky," he added in, drawing a rectangle in the air to show the size of the TV.

Brennan had to laugh, kissing his chin tenderly.

"You're such a child sometimes," she laughed lightly, "but I'm sure Parker would be very pleased with a large pool, although I hope you're not expecting it to be the actual size of Kentucky. I assume you're using hyperbole."

"Look who's catching on," he smiled sweetly, feeling it fade when a thought crossed his mind, speaking his next words unsurely, "but, do you want to wait until after all this Max crap blows over before we start looking for a house?"

Brennan tensed up at the mention of her father, the thoughts of Max flooding back into her mind.

"No," she said, harshly, "he has nothing to do with this. I am not going to let him ruin this for us."

"Alright," Booth kept his tone soft, not wanting to upset her anymore, as he kissed her shoulder once more, taking a long pause before he spoke again, "you've got to be exhausted by now, huh?"

"I could use a few hours of sleep," she said, laying back down to snuggle under her partner's arm, "it's been a long day."

Booth held her close, pulling the comforter up to cover her shoulders, as her hair brushed against his skin.

"I'll tell you what," he said, as she closed her eyes, simply listening to him, "this weekend, we're going to tell Parker about the baby, okay?"

Brennan shook her head, covering her mouth to yawn.

"No," she protested, opening her eyes to look at him seriously, "I want to wait until the first trimester is over," she paused, not wanting to upset him with the harsh facts, "I told you, miscarriages are common in the first trimester. I don't want to get him all excited and then, if I do happen to miscarry, have to tell him that we lost the baby."

Booth was the one to tense up this time, and she could feel him go rigid under her.

"Okay," he agreed, in a cold voice, making it obvious that he did not want to speak of miscarriages any longer, "we'll wait."

Brennan sighed, feeling content, as she kissed his chest once more.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, sure."

Stroking her hands over his torso, she closed her eyes again, letting herself drift off into a long awaited sleep, and letting her partner lay awake, the only thing on his mind being the fear of losing their baby for the next two hours, before he finally slept as well.


	102. It Looks Like A Kidney Bean, Booth

**A/N: Hello, all. =] This is just a fluffy little chapter for you, to balance the emotion of the last two. It's basically a filler, but hopefully you enjoy anyway.**

**And also note that next chapter will be jumping ahead in time a little. Nothing significant. Maybe like, a month or a month and a half =]**

Chapter One Hundred Two:

"It Looks Like A Kidney Bean, Booth"

Brennan squirmed slightly when she felt her partner tickle her ribs, groaning something inaudible in irritation as she turned over onto her stomach, feeling his hand move to continue to tickle her under the covers.

"Booth, stop," she complained, attempting to roll away from him, only to have him wrap an arm around her waist to prevent the movement.

"We have to get up and get ready for work," he told her, tickling her ribs again, "who knew you were so ticklish?"

"You did," she accused, "you figured it out when we were making love one night."

"Oh, yeah, I did," he smiled charmingly, poking her side gently, causing her to jerk, "must have slipped my mind."

"Who do you think you're fooling?" she laughed lightly, smoothing her hand over his stomach the best she could when he had his arm locked around her waist.

Her arm moved to wrap around his neck when his lips pressed to hers in a gentle good morning kiss, smiling against his lips when he pulled her close, holding her warm body close to his. When their lips left one another's, Booth immediately moved his to kiss her neck softly, causing her to involuntarily tilt her head up to give him more space.

"I have a lot to do at the lab today," she told him, her eyes falling shut in pleasure when he kissed along the line of her jaw.

"Mhm," he responded in a mumble against her skin, kissing her chin softly, then her lips, then moving back to the line of her jaw.

"And you probably have a lot to do too," she sighed when he found a sweet spot, "are you nervous for your first day back at work?"

"It's just paperwork, baby, no highspeed chases or shooting at serial killers."

"Booth, the baby thing has to be intentional," she complained.

"That time it was, baby, but usually it's not."

"You're so irritating," she huffed.

"Come on, baby, how can I be annoying you when I'm kissing you like this?"

As much as she didn't want to, knowing it would just be encouraging him, Brennan laughed, looking over her shoulder to see the clock, huffing when she saw the time.

"I guess we should get up."

"Unless you want to have sex again," he tried.

"Booth, I'm tired," she complained, sitting up straight, stretching out her back, "you were feral last night, in the SUV and here. I'm done with sex for the day," she looked at a bruise on her bicep, "look, you nearly gave me a dislocated shoulder to match yours."

"If I was being too rough, you should have told me," he seemed slightly concerned now.

"No, I liked it, honestly," she promised, "my body is just worn out this morning. I don't know if it's from you, or from being pregnant, or simply because I'm getting older, but needless to say I'm not much in the mood for intercourse right now."

"Mmm, alright," he said the word as if he were sacrificing something, kissing her shoulder one last time before unwrapping his arm from around her waist, letting her get out of bed.

As soon as she left the warmth of their bed, Brennan tied her robe around her waist, arching her back to stretch it out, aware that her partner was watching her, but not minding all that much at the moment. She heard the sheets rustle when he got out of bed as well, finding his boxers tossed on the floor beside the bed and putting them back on. Brennan turned to look at him when he groaned in discomfort.

"What's the matter?" She asked, wanting to make sure he didn't re-injure anything.

"Nothing," he assured her, rubbing his back with the palm of his hand, "I'm just a little sore, that's all."

"Is your shoulder okay?"

"Yeah, Bones, I'm fine. Just little aches and pains, that's all. Nothing you need to worry about," he promised, "maybe twice was a little much."

Brennan looked slightly concerned.

"Are you sure you're okay to go back to work today?" She asked.

"Yes, I'm fine. Fine enough to sit at my desk anyway."

"Do you need a painkiller? There's still a few left."

"No, Advil will be fine," he laughed lightly, finding her concern for him adorable, "I'm okay, Bones, honestly. It's been less than a week since I got blown up. I'm just still a little physically weak, and my body may not have been ready for all that yet."

Brennan looked at him curiously as he looked through the closet for a suit.

"Weren't you the one just asking for sex thirty seconds ago?" She asked.

"I didn't ask for anything, I made a suggestion. And besides, I was only half kidding," he took one of his grey suits off the hanger, "I mean, don't get me wrong, if you said you wanted to I wasn't going to stop you or anything."

Brennan rolled her eyes.

"Typical sex obsessed man," she commented.

"Hey, now that's a stereotype," he accused.

"Stereotypes always have some sort of truth to them, or else they wouldn't have become stereotypes in the first place," she pointed out.

"Alright, now you're just overstimulating my mind with all your riddle talk," he shook his head as he dug the rest of the clothes he needed out of the drawers.

"It's not riddle talk. If anything, it was very straight forward," her voice trailed off when he tossed the clean clothes onto the bed and took her hands, "what are we doing now?"

"Showering," he said, as if that were obvious.

"Together?"

"Yes, together," he pulled her close, kissing her cheek softly, "you weren't expecting me to shower by myself, were you?"

Brennan eyed him curiously.

"Just showering, correct?" She asked.

"Yes," he had to laugh at her suspicion, "feel free to hit me if I try anything. I mean, I probably will, considering I'm a man and all."

Brennan rolled her eyes.

"Alright," she laughed, "I always did have trouble resisting you."

Booth was the one to laugh now, as he pulled her backwards towards the bathroom.

"And don't I know it, baby."

* * *

"Bren? Sweetie? What are you doing?"

Brennan looked up from where she was laying on the couch of her office, bag of pretzels in hand, to silently greet her friend.

"Are you actually laying on your couch with a bag of pretzels?" Angela seemed genuinely surprised by this, "you're usually obsessing over some ancient bones, or trying to solve a murder. I don't think I've ever seen you just, on your couch, I mean, other than when you and Booth are secretly groping each other in here, which you think nobody knows about."

"Booth and I have never had sex in my office or his for that matter," she said, defensively, "but, if you must know, I'm feeling a little ill today, which is why I'm not working."

"Pregnancy hormones kicking your ass?" She asked sympathetically.

Brennan picked the bag up off her stomach and sat up straight, brushing the crumbs off of her shirt before she set the bag next to her.

"I'm not completely sure what that means, but if you're asking if I think the pregnancy is making me feel ill, then the answer would be yes," she responded, looking down at her flat stomach, half expecting to see a baby bump, "Booth made breakfast this morning, and the smell was so horrible that I couldn't even be in the kitchen. I felt bad because I think I insulted him when I came out of our bedroom and asked what that 'awful smell' was."

"Definitely the hormones," Angela laughed, "were you sick?"

"Yes, I was sick twice this morning ," she sighed, taking another pretzel out of the bag and popping it into her mouth, "pregnancy is not as enjoyable as I was expecting it to be."

"Aw, Bren, it'll get better," Angela assured her, "I mean, not that I have any first hand knowledge or anything. But I'm sure once you get a belly, and you can feel the baby kicking and all that good stuff, you'll like it a lot better."

Brennan nodded silently, running her fingers through her hair when the thought crossed her mind, for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the last few days. With a sigh, she finally voiced her fears to the only person she knew she could.

"What if I lose the baby?"

Angela was surprised by her friend's question.

"I'm not going to say you won't, because it happens, but, why are you worried about that right now?"

"Because, I've been under a lot of stress lately, and Booth always says that stress is not good for the baby. And," she paused, unsure if she wanted to share this part with Angela, "I had some abdominal pain last night, but it wasn't anything too serious. And it was gone by the morning. I didn't want to tell Booth because you know how he gets."

"Sweetie, if you're having abdominal pain, you should see a doctor," Angela seemed slightly concerned now, "even if it feels like nothing, you don't want to risk anything."

"If I do miscarry, Booth will be crushed," the thought seemed to worry Brennan even more than she already was.

"Well, if you start stressing about miscarrying now you're going to make it worse. Just, book a doctor's appointment, just to make sure everything's okay, then take it from there."

"Okay," Brennan agreed, seeing the logic in Angela's suggestion, "but, Ange? Can you do me a favor and not say anything to Booth about this. I don't want him to worry."

"You don't want him to go with you?" She asked.

"No. He will just wind up making it more stressful than it needs to be. I love him, but he's not very good in stressful situations. Especially when it comes to me."

Angela seemed hesitant to agree to this, but decided to anyway. Brennan was her best friend after all, and if this was what she wanted, she wasn't going to argue with her about it.

"Alright. I won't tell him. You have my word."

Brennan smiled.

"Thank you, Angela."

* * *

It was about three days after the conversation between Brennan and Angela that Booth came home to find his partner with a sponge and a bucket of soapy water scrubbing the inside of the refrigerator. There was food spread all across the counters and table as she cleaned, and he simply stared at her with a shock ridden expression until he finally spoke.

"Bones, what the hell are you doing?" He had to ask.

Brennan was startled by the sound of his voice, dropping the sponge back in the bucket and looking up at him from where she was kneeling to reach the bottom shelf of the fridge.

"I don't know how you're dealing with that horrible smell," she said, "I thought something went bad, so I cleaned out the refrigerator. And then when I realized it was nothing in there, I scrubbed it. But the damn kitchen still smells like something spoiled."

"Bones, your pregnant, everything smells bad to you," he looked at all of the food laid out on the counter that was about to thaw, "and you're about to ruin all of my food because of it."

"I'm going to put it back," she shrugged, "and, at least now you know the refrigerator is clean."

Brennan wiped her forehead with her forearm before taking the bucket to the sink to dump out the remaining water, and going to help Booth put the food back where it belonged. After working in silence for a few seconds, she spoke.

"I went to the doctor today," she said, casually.

Booth stopped what he was doing to look at her.

"How come?"

"I just wanted to make sure everything was going normally with the pregnancy," she shrugged, leaving out the part about her abdominal pain, "they gave me an ultrasound to make sure, even though you can't really see the baby yet."

When she looked at his face, she felt slightly guilty, seeing that he was hurt that she went without him to her first ultrasound. In her defense, she didn't know they were going to give her one that early. If she did, she may have considered bringing him along.

"Oh," he said, simply, not wanting to touch on the 'why wasn't I invited?' subject, "is, everything okay? Are you and the baby all good?"

"Yes, the doctor says everything is going smoothly, and I'm perfectly healthy," she seemed proud of the news, "she says I should relax though."

"I've only been telling you that since we found out you were pregnant," he had to roll his eyes at how she would listen to the doctor, but not to him.

There was another short silence between them as they finished restocking the fridge before Brennan spoke again.

"I have a photograph of the ultrasound, if you want to see it."

"Yeah, show me," he closed the refrigerator door as she went over to her purse, opening her wallet and taking the little black and white picture out.

When she handed it to him, he squinted at it, the way she would squint at her bones.

"The doctor circled the baby in red," she pointed to the inside of the red circle, her finger touching the small, bean shaped figure.

Booth leaned closer to the photo, seeming to examine it carefully.

"That's our baby?" He asked, his thumb circling the same bean shape that she just pointed to.

"I know it's nothing too exciting right now, but in a few weeks it should actually start to look a little more like a baby," she watched as he studied the picture, curious as to what he found so interesting about it, "What?" She asked.

"Nothing," he shook his head, handing the picture back to her, "it's just, hard to believe, that's all. I knew you were pregnant, but actually seeing it made it so much more real."

Brennan shrugged, not exactly agreeing.

"It looks like a kidney bean, Booth."

"Bones, it doesn't matter what it looks like," he tried to explain to her, "it's what it _is_ that matters. Even though it may look like a kidney bean right now, it's our baby."

"Our baby," she pondered over the words, looking deep in thought as she put the photograph of their 'kidney bean' back into her wallet, "I wonder what he or she will look like."

"He'll be the most handsome kid in D.C.," Booth assured her, "two parents like us? It's gotta happen."

"I don't know why you're so convinced it's going to be a boy," she laughed, "I understand you put a lot of faith into your gut, but a baby's gender is not something that can be predicted by a 'magic guy'."

"Does the word 'magic' mean nothing to you?"

"No, it doesn't."

Booth laughed and rolled his eyes, taking her face between his hands to pull her down for a quick kiss.

"Shut up," he laughed, seeing her roll her eyes as well in response, "one day, you'll believe in magic. I can promise you that."

"I doubt it," she smiled sweetly up at him.

"Well, you know, Bones, that sounds like a challenge to me," he kissed her again, "trust me, baby. By the time our little guy is born, you'll be all about magic."


	103. That's Up to a Jury

**A/N: Hola =] I'm sorry it took so long for me to update. I haven't been able to find the time to write lately. =p But I'll try to get the next one out faster, since this one was so short, which I also apologize for. And I decided to make them go jogging, because I thought it was too cute when they ran together a few episodes ago. =] Okay, enough of me, talking. xD Go ahead and read.**

Chapter One Hundred Three:

"That's Up To A Jury"

Telling the squints about Brennan's pregnancy was soon going to be inevitable. Now that she was three months along, she had just the slightest bit of a bump, one that was only noticeable if she was wearing something fitted. Which is why now she only wore looser or more flowing shirts to the lab, and, as for pants, she had to purchase a few new pairs in a bigger size.

Her hormones had been off the wall too. She was constantly crabby, and when she wasn't snapping at everyone around her, she was upset. Even the weekend prior, when she and Booth were watching a movie, she cried so hard at the end that he had to pull her into his lap and kiss her head and stroke her hair until she stopped. Booth was dealing pretty well with the mood swings, making sure to keep himself under control when he would want to snap back at her. He wanted nothing more than to be supportive, and understanding, helping her through all the changes, but at times, he found himself wanting to strangle her. And at times, she wanted to strangle him too. Sometimes, even though she knew he wasn't trying to be annoying, every little thing he did would get under her skin, and as much as she would try to hold it in, she would wind up exploding on him by the end of the day.

It was a particularly pleasant afternoon out for a September, so the couple decided to take a short run together, since Brennan didn't really have the stamina for much more in her state. They liked to do simple things like that. They liked that they were past the point of having to impress each other all the time, and now they could just wear t-shirts and shorts and run together, not caring if they sweated of messed up their hair.

"We're going to have to start telling people soon," he struck up the conversation as they ran, having to speak loudly to make sure she could hear him over the music playing in her ears.

"It's so small right now that you can barely tell," her voice was loud, unable to hear herself talk.

"That's why I said 'soon' not right this very second," he reached over to tug one headphone out of her ear, growing tired of shouting, "and I can see it."

"That's because this shirt is fitted," she glanced down at the pink v-neck t-shirt as she ran.

"Even putting the fact that you're showing now aside, hasn't Cam, or anyone else for that matter, noticed the change in your attitude?" He paused when she looked over at him, "I mean, I sure have. You practically screamed your vocal cords out yesterday because I left the toothpaste open, and then you cried when I yelled back."

"Because when you leave the toothpaste open the top gets crusty and disgusting. And it is perfectly reasonable for me to get upset when you raise your voice at me," she paused, finally answering the original question, "and, to be honest, I've been, avoiding Cam. Because she is very observant, and she will notice something is different. Plus the fact that if I snap at her the way I've been snapping at you and Angela, she'd probably fire me."

"And Angela? Well at least it's not just me you scream at nowadays."

"Well it's your fault," she accused, "maybe if you didn't posses 'super sperm' we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Maybe if you took your birth control the way you were supposed to be..." he paused before the whole conversation could get out of hand, "but, you know, I'd rather not talk about the baby like he's some sort of burden. I love the little guy, already."

"I would normally argue that it is impossible to love someone whom you've never met, but, admittedly, I love him or her as well," she half smiled, "I can't wait until he or she is born and we can have our family."

"Yeah," Booth agreed, with a smile, neither of them slowing down their jog throughout the conversation, "we'll have a great family, I can tell you that," he paused as they ran, finally bringing up something they hadn't talked about in almost a month, since every time he tried to bring it up she would get angry, "speaking of family, you should try to talk to your father."

She immediately put her earphone back in when she heard the words 'your father' leave his mouth, making it clear that she did not want to talk about Max.

"Oh, come on, Bones, don't be like this," he tried, but Brennan ignored him, as the music drowned him out, for the most part, "Bones, I know you can still hear me," he stopped running, grabbing her arm to stop her as well as he tugged the earphone back out of her ear, "hear me out."

"No," her voice was soft, yet stern, as she yanked her arm out of his grip, "I want nothing to do with Max Keenan."

Booth stayed quiet for a second, as they exchanged stares between one another.

"Don't you think he has the right to know about his grandchild?" He asked.

"If he didn't murder people, he would know his grandchild," she shrugged, "it's not like he'll ever get to meet the baby anyway. If everything goes the way it should, he'll be locked up in jail for the rest of his life. And even if he does somehow con his way into getting out, there is no way he's going near my child."

She received a disapproving look.

"Well, I don't want to be a pain in the ass or anything, but it's my kid too, and I want him to know his grandfather," he was the one to get the disapproving look this time, "I know you're upset, but, I was really close to my grandfather, and he's the reason I am who I am today. I don't want to deny our baby that bond."

"Your grandfather wasn't a murderer and a career criminal, Booth," she practically hissed, "this conversation is over. I don't want to talk to or about Max, I just want to finish running, go home, shower, and go to the lab."

"Bones, he probably hasn't had a visitor in months. Russ and Amy went back home, and you refuse to go see him."

"Then you go talk to him if it's that important to you," she glared at him, growing tired of him trying to control her relationship with Max, "mind your business, Booth. This has nothing to do with you. Just, stay out of my personal life."

"Hate to break it to you, Bones, but I _am_ part of your personal life now," he reminded her, the annoyance audible in his voice, "we live together and you're carrying _my_ child. I think I should have some sort of involvement in your life."

"You do have involvement in my life, but when it comes to my father, you need to stay out of it," her voice was cold, "it is not your call whether or not I have contact with my father."

"I'm just trying to help," he huffed at how stubborn she could be, "I don't want to see you throw away your relationship with Max over this, when we're not even sure if he did it or not."

"He did. He's guilty and he should go to prison."

"That's not up to you, Bones. That's up to a jury."

Brennan glared at him before putting her earphone back in, her way of cutting off the conversation there, as she started to run again

* * *

"Tempe," Max's voice sounded a combination of happy and grateful when he saw his daughter, the door to the little, guarded room closing behind her. He wanted to just reach out and hug her, but knew that she would not appreciate that. "I wasn't expecting you when the guard said someone was here to see me. Thank you."

Brennan took a seat across from him, something she was all too used to doing, placing her hands in her lap.

"Booth wanted me to come talk to you," she said, her tone flat, "if you want to thank anybody, you should be thanking him, since he is the only reason I'm here."

Max kept the charming smile on his face, her words never breaking him.

"Well then tell Booth I said thank you," his tone was light as he spoke to her, even though it didn't seem as cheerful when he started to speak again, "listen, sweetheart, I know you're angry that I'm gone again, but, I promise you, I didn't kill anyone."

Brennan sighed.

"That's not important right now," she said, making sure to stay calm and collected this time, "he wanted me to come talk to you because he thinks there's something you should know."

"Oh," he sounded slightly surprised, "are you two finally tying the knot? I gotta say, it's about time."

"No, dad, we are not getting married," she huffed, "Booth and I are not going to get married, so get the idea out of your head," she paused before she continued, taking a second to collect herself, "he wanted me to come, tell you about your grandchild."

A look of distress took over Max's face.

"Is Russ' daughter sick again?" He asked.

"No," Brennan assured him, not wanting him to get the wrong idea, "no, I'm not talking about Russ and Amy's children. I'm talking about, my child."

Max seemed hopelessly confused by this point.

"Tempe, you don't have kids," he reminded her, seeming just the slightest bit concerned.

"I know, but, I will," she wasn't entirely sure of how she wanted to word this, 'I'm pregnant' seeming just a little too blunt, "Booth and I are going to have a child."

Max smiled again.

"Good for you guys," he said, cheerfully, "I know you didn't want kids, but I think choosing to have a baby, when you're both ready for it, is a good decision. I wasn't sure if I ever wanted kids either until I married your mother."

"Dad, I don't mean when we're both ready," she was growing frustrated with his inability to read discretion, "we're going to have a child in six months. Not _try_ for a child in six months, actually have one. I am already carrying the child we're speaking of."

The silence between them grew awkward, as they just looked at each other, each of them waiting for the other to say something.

"Congratulations, honey," Max's voice sounded genuine when he finally spoke.

Brennan tucked her hair awkwardly behind her ear, unsure of what to say.

"Thank you, I guess" she responded, taking a short pause before she spoke again, her voice lower this time around, "I'm, going to ask Booth if we can name the child after mom."

"I'm sure he won't have a problem with that," he assured her.

Brennan shrugged.

"I'm sure he won't, unless he wants to name it after someone in his family, but in that case I guess we'll have to work something out," the more she spoke, the more comfortable she felt, and, in a way, she was glad she had someone other than Angela to talk to about all of this now, "I don't know how well that'll go though. Booth and I have been butting heads a lot lately."

"You guys have been fighting?" Max asked, surprised by her correct use of the figure of speech.

"No, not fighting. We just can't agree on anything anymore."

"Maybe you should talk to that therapist kid. You know, the one who called me a sociopath and almost got me the death sentence."

Brennan was having a hard time seeing the humor in trial jokes at the moment.

"Sweets? No, he always manages to make it worse."

Max looked at her questioningly.

"Have you ever actually listened to him? Or do you just brush off what he says because you don't believe in therapy?"

"I listen to him," Brennan's voice was defensive, even though, when she went back and thought about it, she realized that she really didn't listen to him all that well, "well he assigns us these pointless therapy ideas that neither of us comply to anyway, so speaking with him would be rather pointless."

"Maybe if you actually did the therapy he assigned it would help," he shrugged, "but, I mean, that's just a suggestion."

"I don't know," she mumbled, picking up her purse from where she set it on the ground.

Max's smile fell when she seemed to be heading towards the door.

"Hey, where are you going?" He asked, "You just got here."

"I have to go home," she said, in a low voice, "Booth is probably wondering where I am."

"He probably thinks you're still at work," he tried to reason with her, "come on, Tempe, stay a little while. I haven't seen you in almost two months."

"I really don't want Booth to worry," she refused his offer politely, "you don't know how he gets. He gets needlessly protective, and that has been multiplied by ten ever since he found out about the baby."

"He just loves you," Max laughed lightly and rolled his eyes at his daughter, "and speaking of love, have you two had the marriage discussion recently?"

"Goodbye, dad," she knew that the subject of marriage was her cue to leave, as the guard opened the door for her, letting her out, and leaving Max alone once again, the way he was getting used to being.


	104. We Are Not Fine, Booth

**A/N: Okay, so I succumbed to the urge to be angsty again. I know, I tried. I tried to give you all a fluffy chapter, but, for whatever reason, the angst just came flowing out. xD So I'm sorry about that. But, enjoy anyway. =]**

Chapter One Hundred Four:

"We Are Not Fine, Booth"

When Brennan opened the door to she and Booth's apartment, the smell of food immediately hit her like a ton of bricks, causing her to nearly choke on it. It almost always smelled awful to her in the apartment recently, and she was growing quite annoyed by it.

"Booth?" She asked, dropping her keys on the coffee table, "Are you cooking?" When she didn't receive an answer, she stepped into the kitchen, lowering her voice when she was able to see him, leaning against the counter by the microwave, knowing he could hear her at a normal volume now, "Booth?"

"If by cooking you mean waiting for a Cup of Soup to finish warming up, then yes, I'm cooking," he had to laugh lightly at her extreme sense of smell, turning to face her, "you want some?"

Brennan shook her head.

"No, quite the opposite actually."

"Fine, more for me," he shrugged, taking the Cup of Soup out of the microwave once it beeped, letting it sit on the counter to cool.

They were both quiet for a few seconds before Brennan brought up what she had been wanting to since she got home.

"I went to see my father today," she said.

Booth was mixing his soup, and looked up to her once he heard her words.

"You did?" He asked.

"Yes. You were right. He hasn't had a visitor since Russ. He was, glad to see me."

"I knew he would be. He misses you," he casually took a spoonful of soup into his mouth after he spoke, swallowing before he continued, "and you should miss him too."

As much as she didn't want to admit it, she realized, only after speaking to Max, that she actually did miss him. Even though he killed someone, well, more than just someone now, he was still her father, and even though she was angry with him, she still loved him.

"I do, in a way," she quickly corrected herself when Booth smiled triumphantly, knowing now she was just stroking his ego, "but, I still think he belongs in jail. I'm sure John Wayne Gacy's family missed him too. It doesn't mean he didn't belong in jail."

"Bones, you're really comparing your dad to John Wayne Gacy?" Booth asked, with an 'are you kidding me?' expression, as he continued on his soup.

"I'm not saying he's as bad, I'm just, making a comparison, that's all. About family members and jail."

"Yeah, but," he paused, placing the soup back on the counter, "John Wayne Gacy was a clown. You're dad is not nearly as creepy as a clown," he laughed lightly when she finally cracked a smile, "you know, that guy is just another example of why you can never trust clowns."

Brennan took a step closer to him, silently grateful that they weren't bickering, the way they had been for the past few weeks. She moved her hand to smooth her palm down his chest, the buttons on his shirt a cool contrast against her warm skin. When she spoke, her voice was low and slightly sultry, even though her words were not at all flirtatious.

"Now, what if our child wants a clown at his or her birthday party? Then what?"

Booth lowered his tone to match hers.

"Then I'd stay as far away from said party as possible," he half smiled charmingly, watching her hand as it slid down to his belt buckle, and then stopped.

"You would miss our child's birthday party because of your irrational fear of clowns?" She asked.

"First of all, I am not _afraid_ of clowns, and second, even if I was, that is a completely rational fear," he saw the look of confusion in her eyes, "clowns are freaky."

Brennan smiled moving her hand back up to his tie to loosen it.

"They're just people in costume and make-up," she reminded him, tugging the knot out of his tie to let it hang on either side of his neck.

"Yeah, they're serial killers in costume and make-up, like John Wayne Gacy" he had to laugh awkwardly when she tugged the tie out of the collar of his shirt, "Bones, what are you doing?"

Balling the piece of fabric up, she tossed it onto the table.

"Undressing you," she said, as if that were obvious.

"In the middle of the kitchen?" He asked, looking down again when her fingers started on the little clear buttons of the light blue shirt, "isn't that the kind of thing you save for the bedroom?"

"I was afraid that if we took the short walk to the bedroom we would start to argue again," she was only half kidding, as she stopped after two buttons to press her cheek against his chest, able to feel his heart beating steadily, "have you even noticed that we haven't made love in two weeks, because we've done nothing but argue?"

"We haven't made love in two weeks?" He asked, thoroughly surprised by this, "wow, I have better self control than I thought."

"That doesn't count. Neither of us have been in the mood because we've been fighting non-stop," her hand skimmed down his forearm to take his, "I don't enjoy fighting with you, Booth. I hate it, actually."

"I know," he agreed, "I hate it too."

Brennan nuzzled the base of his neck softly.

"I don't know why we can't get along anymore," she admitted, feeling slightly ashamed, "maybe, we should talk to Sweets."

Booth groaned dramatically, looking at the ceiling after he rolled his eyes.

"No," he complained, "we don't need to talk to Sweets. We're fine."

"We most certainly are not fine," her voice was low again, but sounded more upset than lusty, "we have done nothing but fight for the past two and a half weeks. That is not a healthy relationship."

"We're going through a rough patch, that's all," he half smiled, cupping the side of her neck gently, "all relationships have rough patches. Your hormones are off the wall, I'm stressed from work. It's completely normal that it's not the most happy time in our relationship."

Brennan's fingers played with his as she looked down at their intertwined hands.

"Do you want me to move out?" She asked, bluntly.

"What?" Booth was taken aback by the question, "No, of course not."

"Because we could very well just be growing tired of each other," she shrugged, feeling like she was walking on egg shells, not wanting to start another fight, "most of the time, we spend the work day together, and then we come home and share a house. Maybe we just need some space from one another."

Booth chuckled.

"You're joking, right?"

"No," Brennan's voice was meek, "it's understandable. No two people can be together twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, and not get tired of each other."

"So you're tired of me?" He asked.

"No, I'm not tired of you," she assured him, "I just don't know if you're tired of me."

Even though she was telling him that she wasn't tired of him, he couldn't help but wonder if she was just saying that to spare his feelings. He figured if she wasn't sick of him, she wouldn't have brought it up in the first place, and he began to feel slightly offended.

"Bones, I'm not sick of you, but if you're sick of me, and you want to leave, there's the door," he gestured towards the front door of their apartment, letting go of her hand, "if you want to go, I can't stop you."

"I don't _want_ to go," she huffed, "why do you always have to blow things out of proportion? I swear, Booth, sometimes I forget how old you are because you act like such a child. How many times do I have to say I'm not sick of you before you believe me?"

"Sorry for having doubts, since you're the one that brought the topic up out of the blue," his tone was harsh when he spoke to her, "I'm having a hard time believing you would bring something up that wasn't even an issue."

"Because you're paranoid!" She exclaimed, growing increasingly more frustrated with him, "And I'll tell you, that is not an attractive trait. You constantly doubt me. Sweets said we didn't trust each other, but in reality, you just don't trust me. I trust you in full."

"Oh, right, you trust me in full," Booth laughed bitterly at her statement, "you were the one insisting that I was flirting with the waitress at the diner the other night."

"You were!" She insisted, "That waitress was much prettier than me, wasn't she? With her long, curly, blonde hair? That is what you like, isn't it? Rebecca? Tessa?"

"At least the blondes I dated didn't drive me absolutely _insane_ the way you do."

Brennan bit her lip, his words stinging. She didn't understand what was wrong. How they went from having a completely innocent conversation to insulting each other in a matter of minutes. Admittedly, she knew she shouldn't have brought up Rebecca and Tessa, and how he preferred blondes, but he shouldn't have called her irritating either.

"Maybe I should sleep on the couch tonight," she said, lowering her voice.

"Maybe you should," he agreed, his voice just as quiet.

In an angry gesture, Brennan picked his balled up tie up off of the table and threw it at his chest, her voice filled with angry passion when she spoke.

"We are _not_ fine, Booth," she hissed, before storming off to their bedroom to gather some pillows and blankets to lay out on the couch for herself

* * *

It was late, a little after midnight, and Brennan was still awake, sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop and an empty bowl of ice cream, working on her novel. She had tried to sleep before, but found that she was having trouble getting comfortable alone on the couch. She knew that if she asked, Booth would let her back into bed without any hesitation, but she was entirely too stubborn to do that now. If she did that, he would think he won something.

Beginning to grow frustrated, since everything she wrote seemed to be coming out wrong, she closed her laptop and picked up the empty bowl, bringing it over to the sink to wash it. As she scrubbed the little white bowl with a sponge, she grew more annoyed with the entire situation of that night. Now that she thought about it, Booth hadn't even attempted to apologize for being a jerk, which caused her to be ten times more angry with him than she would have been. He was probably sleeping like a baby in their big, comfortable bed, while she was here scrubbing dishes like some sort of servant.

She could feel the St. Christopher medal that was hanging around her neck touch her chest, almost as if it was mocking her, trying to remind her that she still loved Booth, as angry as she was with him. Shutting the water off, she placed the bowl in the sink again, only long enough to tug the chain over her head and place it roughly on the counter. Her own actions scared her. Was she really so angry with him that she didn't want to wear his St. Christopher medal anymore?

Once the gold chain was in it's place on the kitchen counter, she picked the bowl back up, yanking the cabinet that it was found in open with her right hand while she held the bowl in her left. Barely noticing that the bowl was still warm and slippery, she reached up to place it back in the cabinet, feeling it slip out of her hand. The sound of glass shattering on the floor brought back all the memories of that day. The day that her foster parents had locked her in the trunk of that car.

Her eyes were wide as she just stared at the glass on the floor with a shocked expression, her heart pounding against her chest as the memories of being locked in the trunk flooded her thoughts. She could almost smell the musty smell, feeling like she was being smothered.

"Bones? What the hell is going on out here?" The voice of her partner barely registered as she stared blankly at the broken bowl, "I heard something shatter and I-"

Booth cut himself off, his eyes following hers down to the floor, looking at the several pieces of broken glass spread apart from one another. He huffed, barely noticing that his partner was not just looking at the mess she made, but was completely shell shocked.

"Stupid piece of crap bowls," he muttered, kneeling down to start picking up the pieces, "if you tap these things too hard they shatter into a million pieces," he looked up at her curiously when he realized she was not planning on helping him, "hello? Bones? You gonna just stand there or are you going to help me clean this up?"

Brennan kneeled down as well, finally getting her bearings enough to speak.

"I'm sorry," with the two words tears flooded her eyes, "I-I didn't mean to."

"It's fine," he laughed lightly, glancing up from the floor to smile at her, "it's just a bowl," his smile faded when he saw a few tears run down her cheeks, "Bones, don't worry about it. I'll just get some new bowls. No harm, no foul."

Brennan shook her head and looked down, a few of her tears hitting the floor.

"I should have been more careful," her voice was barely above a whisper, "the water was so hot, and the plate was so slippery," he knew now that she was no longer talking about the bowl, and was just mumbling to herself, "it wasn't fair. What they did was not fair."

And then it dawned on him. He had almost completely forgotten the story she had told him about her foster parents locking her in the trunk of a car for two days after breaking a dish.

"Look at me," he lowered his voice, reaching across the broken glass to cup her cheek gently, seeing her wince slightly when he touched her, "it can be replaced, okay?"

Brennan nodded, looking up at him with crisp, red eyes, her cheeks stained with tears.

"Are you angry?" She asked.

"No," he promised, as she started to slide forward to get closer to him, only to be stopped before she could kneel on the glass, "watch, you're going to hurt yourself," he warned her, tugging her carefully into his lap when he saw that she wanted to be close, making sure that she didn't make contact with the broken glass when he did.

Brennan rested her head against his shoulder as she looked at the broken bowl on the floor, sniffing as she felt him stroke her hair comfortingly.

"It's okay," he whispered, kissing her temple softly, "it's just a thing. It can be replaced. It's just a thing, Temperance."

Brennan nodded against his shoulder, feeling his arm tighten around her waist when she sniffed again.

"Shh," he tried to comfort her, "it's okay. I'm not mad. You didn't do anything wrong."

It took a little while, but, eventually, she felt comfortable again, with her partner holding her close, whispering in her ear and kissing her head. She wasn't thinking about the trunk, or her foster parents anymore. She was only thinking about the man holding her, the one who she loved. And, at that moment, she forgot why they were even fighting in the first place.


	105. A Magician Never Reveals His Tricks

**A/N: Sorry, I have to make this quick, because I have to leave for school in ten minutes. Just a nice little fluffy chapter for you after the last angsty one. =] And next chapter, Brennan tells the squints about baby Brennan-Booth, so stick around. =D **

**_Also, I need your opinions, as my readers, on something_...**

**I was contemplating ending this story before Brennan has her baby, and then making her give birth in the beginning of the sequel (which I have already pretty much decided there will be). I need to know what you guys think, so you can either leave it in the review, or PM me, or which ever, I just want to know what you all would rather me do. =] **

Chapter One Hundred Five:

"A Magician Never Reveals His Tricks"

Even though it was already one thirty in the morning, neither of them could sleep, but neither of them spoke either. Brennan had taken her place back in their bed after they cleaned the glass up off of the kitchen floor, and they made love for the first time in two weeks. Afterwards, she laid cuddled under her partner's arm as he held her close, her head resting against the crook of his neck as she listened to his pulse. She didn't feel as if they had to talk right then. The night had been intense for both of them, and she felt as if silence was what they both needed. Just as she thought that, as if he read her mind, Booth broke the silence, his voice quiet, not wanting to wreck the serene mood of the room.

"Bones?" He asked, "What are you thinking about right now?"

Booth felt like maybe he sounded too much like a love struck teenage girl when he asked the question, suddenly feeling as if asking her that was invading the privacy of her thoughts. Brennan looked up at him with innocent eyes.

"The fight we had before," she responded honestly.

Booth took a deep breath when she brought up the fight.

"It was stupid," he told her, "I think we're both just under a lot of stress right now."

Brennan inhaled his scent and let it out in a long sigh.

"I still think we should talk to Sweets," she said, quietly, "maybe he can help."

"I don't think talking to Sweets would solve anything," he told her, honestly, "I think we both just need to think before we speak, and occasionally take a step back and remember why we love each other. Because I think we forget sometimes."

Brennan nodded in agreement, jumping when his hand pressed against her stomach. She spoke meekly when he looked at her questioningly, feeling slightly nervous for reasons she was unaware of.

"You're hands are cold," she whispered, placing her hand against his.

It was quiet for another few seconds before she spoke again.

"Do I really drive you insane?"

Booth chuckled half heartedly.

"Yes," he told her, "on occasion. But what I said was out of line."

Brennan kissed his pulse point softly.

"I shouldn't have accused you of flirting with the waitress," she said softly, "I know you wouldn't do that."

"The waitress was pretty," he said, "but I love _you_. You're beautiful in every way. The waitress just had a nice body and a pretty face."

Brennan moved up to kiss his lips. For some reason, even all these months later, it still gave her butterflies and made her blush like a teenager when he called her beautiful. They only kissed for a few seconds before his lips abandon hers, only to run his tongue over the sweet spot on her neck, causing her to sigh and shiver slightly.

"How do you do that?" She asked, still curious to know his secrets, "Find all my sweet spots like that?"

"A magician never reveals his tricks," he murmured against her skin, kissing the top of her chest softly.

Brennan's eyes fluttered closed as he placed feather light kisses against her skin, that evolved into small nips, only to be soothed by more light kisses, causing her to scratch involuntarily at his back. When he spoke, his voice thick and lusty, she jumped in surprise.

"I want to try something," his breath was hot against her skin when he spoke, "remember chapter two of your second book?" She nodded, her eyes still closed, "I want to try that."

"Okay," she squeaked out, her cheeks burning.

Normally he wasn't so blunt. If they wanted to try something, they just did, without discussion. But she could tell by the way he smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead softly, that he was nervous. She wasn't entirely sure what he was nervous about, since it wasn't like this was their first time, but he was.

"Why are you scared?" She asked, her voice barely audible, the words sounding strange coming from her mouth, since she was, in reality, the one who sounded nervous.

"I'm not," he promised, tucking her hair behind her ear for her, "I'm just, remembering why I fell in love with you."

Brennan swallowed the dry feeling in her throat, still shivering, even though he wasn't even kissing her anymore.

"Oh," she whispered, "can-can I tell you something?"

"Anything."

"Remember when that FBI agent had me tied up, and was going to murder me? And then you came in, injured and all, and shot him? And you saved my life?"

"Of course I do. But that wasn't just me, you know."

Brennan ignored how he tried to take the spotlight off himself, the way he always did.

"You unhooked me and helped me down, even though you could barely stand, and I wrapped my arms around you and buried my head into your chest," she paused when he looked at her curiously, knowing he was wondering where she was going with this, "well when I hugged you, and you said you were right there, and that you had me...I think, that's when I fell in love with you. Of course, I didn't know it then."

"That was when we first met," he reminded her.

"I know," she whispered, "and I still dated other men, like Sully, because I didn't know what those feelings were that I was feeling. I just knew when I was around you, I felt safe," she stared at him, as if she were seeking his approval, "I still do."

Booth looked at her with adoration in his eyes, tracing the fingers of his left hand gently down her stomach, able to feel the slight bulge that laid there now.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, quietly, his right hand tracing the line of her jaw slowly, his fingertips barely touching her skin.

"Yes," she promised, "I love you."

"Then I want you to wrap your arms around my shoulders and stay still."

Brennan swallowed again.

"Are we still trying chapter two?" She asked, hoarsely.

He nodded and leaned down to kiss her again, but before their lips could even connect, Brennan's phone was ringing loudly and from it's place on the night stand. Booth groaned, glancing at the clock, just to make sure it actually was one thirty in the morning, and he wasn't losing his mind.

"You have got to be kidding me," he mumbled, as Brennan reached over to pick up her phone, knowing it must have been important if someone was calling at this hour.

"Brennan," she answered her phone, trying her best to cover up the irritation in her voice.

She could feel Booth's lips against her shoulder, and she reached behind her to cup the back of his head.

"Sweetie?" Angela's voice was loud on the other end of the line, but Brennan hardly noticed, as she pressed her palm to the blanket to keep it covering her front when Booth pushed down the back a little to have more access to kiss over her shoulder blade.

"Ange, why are you shouting?" She asked, shivering when he blew on another one of her sweet spots, kissing back up to the crook of her neck, "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is perfect," her best friend gushed, "guess what? Hodgins and I are getting married in two weeks! Isn't that great? I know it's short notice, but we've been engaged forever, sooo," she dragged out the last word, "yeah."

Brennan held the phone slightly away from her ear to avoid hearing loss, squirming when Booth took her earlobe gently between his teeth.

"And you had to call me at one thirty in the morning to tell me this?" She guided him back down to her neck, making sure she didn't make any noise that would give her away.

"I've had a few drinks, if you couldn't tell."

"Yes, I can tell. You're intoxicated."

Booth's chuckle vibrated against her skin.

"Where are you?" She asked, "You're not driving like this, are you?"

"Of course not, Debbie Downer," Angela laughed, "Hodgins and I just got home from the bar. We took a cab though, before you start to worry," Brennan turned slightly to cup the side of her partner's neck as Angela spoke, bringing their lips back together in a gentle kiss, neither of them hesitating to part their lips, "and even if we didn't, Hodgins only had a few drinks. But, you know, it's better safe than sorry, right?"

"Mhm," Brennan mumbled against Booth's lips in response to her friend's question, her hand sliding from his neck into his hair.

"There was this girl at the bar, totally hitting on Hodgins. I tell you, if I had a little more liquid courage in me, I would have went right up to her and decked her with my engagement ring. That would show her who he belonged to. You know, I don't understand why random girls think it's okay to just hit on guys who are clearly at the bar with their girlfriends. It's not-"

Brennan had tried to stop paying attention, but could still hear the sound of Angela's voice, making it hard to get in the mood. Finally separating their lips, she whispered to Booth.

"She won't stop taking," she made sure she was quiet enough so her friend wouldn't hear her, even though she was pretty sure she was too wrapped up in whatever she was saying to notice what Brennan was doing on the other end of the line, "what do I do?"

Booth simply took the phone from her hand and closed it, Angela's voice cutting off completely when he did. Normally, Brennan would have been angry that he just so blatantly took her phone and hung up on Angela, but that night, she didn't seem to care all that much.

"No more distractions," he whispered, shutting off her phone and placing it back on the night stand, "okay?"

"That is acceptable," she smiled up at him, "but if something happens with a case and I'm unable to be informed, I'm going to blame you."

"Good. Have fun explaining to the FBI that you were too busy having sex with your work partner to answer the phone."

Brennan had to laugh lightly.

"Fine," she said, with a small smile, "maybe I won't blame you."

* * *

"Wake up, lover, I'm ready for round three."

Booth groaned something inaudible when he felt Brennan's lips against his neck, feeling way too tired for round three at the moment.

"Booth," her voice was sweet and melodic when she spoke against his skin, moving a hand up to rub his shoulder gently, "come on. I want to make love."

He turned his head to the side so his cheek was resting against the pillow.

"No," he mumbled, waking up fully when he felt a small pain on his neck, "ow!" he complained, when she nipped his skin just a little too hard, "Gentle, Bones. Scratching your nails down my back is one thing, but you just bit me."

"It was a nibble," she soothed the sting with her tongue.

"It was a bite," he corrected her, "and it hurt."

"Sorry," she laughed softly, "I was just trying to get your attention," she took his face between her hands, turning him to look at her, "but now that you're awake, how 'bout it?"

Booth looked over at the clock.

"We have to go to work in an hour," he told her, noticing that she wasn't listening, just continuing to smother his neck in kisses, "we don't have time. I mean, we still have to shower."

"Mhm," she mumbled against his skin.

"I know you're hormonal, baby, but we really don't have time," he felt slightly guilty when she stopped, sitting up straight, resting her back against the headboard, "I'm sorry, Bones. It's not you, I just really can't be late again for a while. I think Cullen's starting to notice."

Brennan brushed her hand through her hair, feeling rejected.

"Can I give you a shoulder rub tonight?" She asked.

"Yes," he laughed, kissing her again, "now come on, we gotta shower."

* * *

"You're Doctor Brennan's best friend, right? I mean, you know her best, correct?"

Angela was in limbo with a skull and her sketch pad, looking up at Cam when she heard her speak.

"I guess you could say that," she had to laugh, "why?"

"Have you noticed how strange she's been acting lately?" Cam asked, leaning against the doorway, one hand on her hip, "she's been leaving her work unfinished, going home early. I even caught her sleeping in her office when she was supposed to be working on the Wilson case. I mean, it makes me wonder if this has anything to do with her and Booth being, her and Booth now."

"What do you mean?" Angela asked.

"Do you think her relationship with Booth has anything to do with her change in attitude?"

"No, of course not," Angela laughed lightly, "I don't think the fact that she fell in love with Booth, which we all knew was going to happen, is effecting her work."

Cam shrugged, still not sure if she agreed.

"And, she seems really into public displays of affection all of the sudden," she pointed out.

"No," Angela shook her head, "she barely wants to talk about her relationship with Booth, let alone publicly display their romance."

"Does the fact that they're tongue kissing in the doorway of her office as we speak change your opinion at all?"

"Well, they're a couple in love. At least they're not necking on the forensic platform."

Cam nodded.

"Right, I forgot who I'm talking to," she laughed, "they aren't nearly as bad as you and Hodgins used to be."

"Hey, we've gotten better," Angela laughed as well, "but if you're worried that Brennan's distracted, you should try talking to her. I mean, I would, but apparently she doesn't have any desire to talk to me anymore. I called her last night and she hung up on me. Just, click."

"But you still don't think she's acting strange?"

"Well I was drunk, and I was probably babbling."

Cam could see that this was going nowhere, considering Angela was being particularly fickle that day.

"Maybe I'll just talk to Doctor Brennan," she said, stepping out of limbo after giving Angela an appreciative half smile, "thanks anyway though."

When she left limbo, she stopped in front of the two lovers. She was willing to let it go for a little while, but now that they all had work to do, she knew it was time to break up the party. Sometimes, she felt like she was working in a highschool, having keep all of her employees and their lovers in line. At first it was just Hodgins and Angela, but now Brennan was part of it too, which made it that much worse.

"Alright, Romeo," Cam tapped on her ex boyfriend's shoulder, as he disconnected his lips from Brennan's, startled by their company, "Juliet has work to do."

"Romeo and Juliet," Brennan pondered, wiping her kiss-swollen lips with the back of her hand, "I know who they are."

"Not to rain on your parade, but everyone knows who they are," Booth pointed out, leaning down to sneak a last kiss on her lips before glancing at Cam with a charming smile on his face.

"Don't even try it, Seeley," Cam crossed her arms over her chest, "the charm smile does not work on me and you know that."

"Well, I mean, you _did_ just call me Romeo, so I figured it was worth a shot."

She laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Get going," she gestured towards the doors, "say goodbye to Miss Capulet and go do your job."

Booth smiled at his girlfriend.

"Parting is such a sweet sorrow, that I shall say goodnight until it be morrow," he kissed her cheek, after he recited the line from the Shakespear play they were discussing.

"Actually, that was Juliet's line," Brennan corrected him, "and we live together, so you will see me tonight, not tomorrow."

Booth rolled his eyes, a smile on his face.

"Whatever, smart ass," he laughed, nudging her arm playfully before leaving the lab, knowing that Cam was starting to grow impatient with him, "I'll see you later," he called to her over his shoulder.

Brennan was watching him leave, before Cam pulled her out of her thoughts.

"You two are extra, close, today," she observed.

"We had some realizations last night," she told her, unsure as to why she was sharing all of this with Cam, who was not only her boss, but used to sleep with Booth, "we don't appreciate each other enough. Booth says we need to remember why we love each other."

"Well remember on your own time," she laughed lightly, trying to keep her tone light while still hinting at the anthropologist that she had to stay professional at work, "we're trying to solve murders here."

"Yes, of course," Brennan agreed, not seeing anything wrong with their behavior, "we're professionals. We are aware of how to balance work and pleasure."

Not having the strength to argue with her, Cam just nodded, allowing her to have her way. As long as it wasn't completely compromising her work, she figured it wasn't a big deal. But she knew if it got any worse, the problem would have to be addressed.


	106. It Isn't An Accomplishment

**A/N: Okie doke, well, I decided to make Brennan have her baby in the sequel, and I promise I won't make you all wait forever for it to come out. =] I'm actually very excited to write the end of this one and start on the sequel, because I already have in mapped out in my head. **

**On a side note, I apologize for the shortness of this chapter. I wanted to save the interrogation for the next. =]**

Chapter One Hundred Six:

"It Isn't An Accomplishment"

It was the first time Brennan actually looked at Miguel Villeda's remains, and it didn't fail to freak her out, the way she knew it would. She bit her lip as she stared blankly at the bones of the man who had kidnaped her. The man who locked her in a cellar, told her the man she loved was dead, physically abused her daily. She could almost see his wicked smile, almost smell the wet, musty stench of the basement, and the cigarette smoke that lingered on his clothes.

_You lose, Villeda_, she made sure the words stayed in her head, not wanting the rest of the lab to think she was losing her mind, talking to a set of remains, _I'm happy. I have Booth, and my friends, and my baby. You have nothing. You died, and you left no impact on this world. It's as if once you died, you disappeared. No one will think about you. I sure as hell won't. I vow, this will be the last time I ever think of you, because I've moved on. You are no longer going to hold me down, Miguel Villeda._ _I am no longer your prisoner._

"Bren?" Angela's voice startled her, sounding sympathetic, "if this is too hard for you..."

"No," Brennan assured her, shaking her head, "it's over. I've moved on. If I continue to fear him, he'll be winning. He's dead. There is nothing for me to be afraid of."

"It's not a matter of fear," Angela kept her tone light, "we'd all understand if you just needed to hang back on this one."

"I don't," Brennan unintentionally snapped at her friend, "I don't need to hide from Miguel Villeda. My job is to find evidence, and I'd appreciate it if you'd let me do it."

Angela simply held her hands up in a silent surrender, as the rest of the squints joined them on the forensic platform.

"And another thing," she started again, even though she had just acted like she was going to stop, "why are you helping us convict your father?"

"I'm not," Brennan assured her, "I'm helping you convict whoever did this. If that happens to be my father, then so be it."

"You would really put your own father in jail?" She asked, "I mean, if he did do this, he was only trying to protect you."

"I don't need protecting," Brennan told her, "I know family is supposed to come first, but I will assure you, I will never murder anyone for my child. Booth says I'm just not far enough along to have that 'maternal instinct' yet, but he is foolish sometimes."

As she examined the bones of Miguel Villeda, she didn't even notice that all of the squints were staring at her, with wide eyes and dropped jaws. Even Angela had to stare, shocked that she just blurted that out in front of everyone. When the space remained silent she looked up at them, a look of confusion on her face.

"What?" She asked.

"Did I just hear correctly?" Cam asked, "Are you, pregnant?"

"Yes," Brennan said, simply, unsure as to why they were all still staring at her, "it really isn't a big deal. Thousands of children are born a day. I'm sure tens of thousands of women are pregnant just in the U.S. right now as well."

She was surprised when Hodgins hugged her, making sure not to touch him with her gloves, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Aw, congrats, Doctor B," he said, cheerfully.

"Congratulations on getting inseminated?" She asked, thinking back to how her father had congratulated her the day prior, "I really don't understand why people congratulate people on their pregnancies. It isn't an accomplishment. It's science."

"Sweetie, it's just what people do when their friends have life growing inside them," Angela laughed and rolled her eyes at how Brennan had to analyze everything, "just pretend you're normal and ride it out. You'll be getting a 'congratulations' every time you tell someone."

"I never understood that," she shrugged, "I can understand getting congratulated on something I did correctly, or something I did well, but I really didn't do anything at all, other than have unprotected sex, which is more foolish than exceptional."

"Just take it for what it is," the artist placed her hand on her friend's shoulder in a friendly gesture, "we're all happy for you."

"We are," Cam chimed in, "like I said when we first met, as long as you're not leaving the lab to pee every five minutes, I'm happy for you."

"I agree with Doctor Brennan," Zack said, simply, as he looked at the bones as well, "pregnancy is simply a sperm cell fertilizing an egg cell."

"Thank you, Zack," Brennan said, honestly, going back to her work, "finally, someone who is logical about all of this," she looked up to Hodgins, Angela, and Cam, "you three could all take a lesson from him."

The three of them exchanged glances between one another, and Angela just shook her head, silently telling them not to bother saying anything to try to change her view on this. She knew once the baby was born, and a little Brennan-Booth was toddling around, she wouldn't feel that it was 'just science' anymore. Hell, it probably wouldn't take that long. Her mind would probably change as soon as she felt it move for the first time.

"I, for one, am excited," Brennan told them, "I am very excited to try my hand at parenting. With my intelligence and Booth's personableness, our child will be brilliant."

"And with two parents like you and Booth, I'm sure it'll be very humble too," Cam commented sarcastically.

"I don't think those kind of traits are genetic," Brennan informed her, not picking up on her sarcasm, "but I guess it's possible."

Angela and Cam exchanged glances as Brennan continued to work, looking for any other bone markers to indicate what happened to Miguel Villeda, not even looking up when she spoke again.

"Booth cried when we got the sonogram last week," she told them, laughing lightly at her boyfriend behind his back, "he tried to say he didn't, but I saw a few tears. I didn't understand why he would cry though."

"Aw, sweetie, he was overwhelmed, because now it doesn't look like a pebble, it actually looks like a baby," Angela gushed, barely able to imagine the big, intimidating FBI agent actually crying, "and I'm not sure he'd want you sharing this with us."

"Because crying at a sonogram is silly?" She asked, having to laugh again, seeming throughly amused by all of this.

"No, because, number one, he'd probably be embarrassed because you're _laughing_ at him, and number two, that's supposed to be something sentimental. You know, just between the two of you."

"It's just a sonogram, Angela," Brennan didn't see the problem in all of this, "and technically it wouldn't be between the two of us because the ultrasound technician was there. She probably thought it was funny that Booth cried as well."

It was quiet for a few minutes before she finished, taking off her gloves.

"I couldn't find anything more," she said, "and I'm starting to feel nauseous, so Zack can finish," after she addressed Zack, who seemed to not want to take over for her, she looked back at Angela, "do you have any crackers or pretzels I can have?"

"Sure, I might have some pretzels in my office," she gestured for her friend to follow her, "come with me, I'll check."

* * *

Booth was tapping his fingers impatiently on his desk as he filled out paperwork that he didn't have the least bit of interest in, just trying to finish so he could leave and grab something to eat, considering his stomach was now rumbling violently.

"Booth," he jumped when the door to his office opened, and the voice of his boss echoed through the small room.

His posture instinctively straightened.

"Good evening, sir," he greeted him politely.

Cullen never failed to make him nervous, even when he knew he wasn't doing anything wrong. He assumed it was just his 'Deputy Director of the FBI' persona, but maybe Cullen was just an intimidating person. Either way, he was never relaxed around him.

"Is there, uh, anything I can help you with?" Booth tried.

"No, I just wanted to let you know we found Bradshaw," Cullen told him, "I've got guys going to get him. You and your squint can interrogate him tomorrow."

"Oh," Booth sounded genuinely surprised that was all, "alright. Thank you for the notice, sir. I'll call Brennan tonight and tell her."

Cullen nodded and went to walk out the door, backtracking and turning around once he noticed something, studying Booth intently. Booth got nervous again, shifting in his chair, fearing that his boss had figured something out about he and Brennan's escalated relationship. After what felt like an eternity, Cullen finally spoke.

"Do you have a hickey?" He asked, seeming genuinely appalled.

"What?" Booth was surprised by the question, instinctively touching his neck, "no, of course not."

"Sure you do, on the side of your neck," Cullen gestured towards the dark mark.

Remembering Brennan's bite from that morning, he mentally kicked himself.

"That?" He asked, "Well, I mean, it's more of a love bite than a hickey."

He chuckled awkwardly, seeing that his boss was not finding it funny.

"Well can you tell whoever your sleeping with to relax? I don't need you embarrassing the FBI by walking around trying to interrogate people with a hickey on your neck."

"I apologize, sir," Booth decided not to make any more jokes about it, seeing that Cullen was honestly annoyed by the little mark, "I won't let it happen again."

"I'll take your word for it," he responded, stepping outside the office, but not closing the door yet, "and you better hope it's gone before you interrogate Bradshaw tomorrow."

And with that, he closed the door, causing Booth to jump again, placing his hand over his fluttering heart once Cullen was gone, and slumping back into his original position leaned over the desk, pen in hand, working on his paperwork.


	107. You Are Very Inconsistent

**A/N: So I actually got another chapter out today because it's raining here and I had nothing else to do but write. Sometimes I like a nice rainy day. xD Anyway, enjoy. =]**

**And I've also got a few questions asking how many chapters are left in this fiction, and the answer is that I'm not completely sure. What I do know is that it won't be too many. I already know how the rest of this is going to play out, and I've already written a couple scenes for the sequel (which I am very excited for xD) so it'll be a few more chapters, but it's definitely nearing the end. **

Chapter One Hundred Seven:

"You Are Very Inconsistent"

"Bones, why the hell are you wearing that?"

Brennan, with a confused expression, glanced down at her outfit, just a simple black skirt and a white top with a few ruffles on it.

"What's wrong with it?" She asked, feeling slightly hurt when she looked up at him, "Do you think it looks bad?"

"No, no, of course not," he promised, not wanting her hormones to get the best of her, knowing that pregnant women had a tendency to feel ugly, "you look hot. You're probably driving all of the other agents nuts. But, you can't just come in here debuting your baby bump. Cullen might see you."

"You can't see it," she said, glancing down at her shirt, "the shirt has ruffles on it."

"You can see it, Bones. I wouldn't make that up," he looked at her apologetically, fixing one of the ruffles on her shirt for her, attempting to get it to cover, "maybe if you move them a certain way it'll be better."

"Stop," she swatted his hands away from her stomach, growing slightly annoyed with him, "even if Cullen does see it, it automatically means you're the father? Am I not allowed to have a sex life?"

"Well, I mean, when you put it that way-"

"You know, you're unbelievable. You're such a possessive alpha male," she crossed her arms over her chest as he looked at her innocently, "I've got news for you, Booth. I can sleep with the majority of the men I speak to."

"I believe you," he assured her.

"Apparently not because you think something makes you the only possible candidate for my baby daddy."

"Baby daddy?"

"I don't believe there is a better term for that," she shrugged.

"How about 'father of my child'?"

Brennan simply rolled her eyes.

"Can we just go interrogate Bradshaw now?" She asked, trying her best to mask the irritation in her voice, not wanting to start another argument.

"Yeah, come on," he gestured towards the interrogation room, "that is why we're here anyway, isn't it?"

Brennan laughed lightly as she followed him. When he opened the door, she was surprised by the infamous Donovan Bradshaw's appearance. He was tall and thin with straggly, blonde hair that hung over his ocean blue eyes. He probably wouldn't be half bad looking if he showered every now and then and got his hair cut. Booth had to laugh when he saw the boy.

"You've got to be kidding me," he laughed, "this is who we've been chasing for three months? He looks like a seventeen year old who just wandered out of the skate park."

"Actually I'm twenty-six. And it's not like you're one to talk," Bradshaw's voice had a thick New York accent when he spoke, a small chuckle leaving his lips, "I'm gonna admit, I was a little afraid when I heard I was getting interrogated, but they send me a guy in a 'cocky' belt buckle and a hot pregnant chick. I'll confess to anything you want if I get to have sex with her."

"Listen, pal, if you don't want to get hit, you won't even go down that path," Booth warned him, "let's stay on task. If you can't concentrate with Doctor Brennan here, considering you probably haven't touched a girl since middle school, she can leave."

"No, no, I like her here," he insisted, "everybody likes a bad boy. Maybe I'll make her see the light," he looked at Brennan, "aye, baby?"

Brennan had to laugh at him, seeing him grow slightly embarrassed, even though he was trying not to let it show.

"Not a chance in hell," she told him.

"Well now that we cleared that up, how about we stay focused, alright, Donny?" Booth asked, as he began laying out pictures of each individual corpse, "James Wilson," he laid out the second, "Brian Wilson," the third, "Lily Wilson. Incase you forgot, they're the three kids you knocked unconscious and then drowned in a lake in Virginia."

Donovan looked at the pictures, recoiling in disgust.

"Listen, man, I've done some stuff, but I never killed anyone," he held his hands up in a surrender, seeing in Booth's face that he wasn't buying it, "I swear, I mean, I don't have the stomach for it."

"Five seconds ago you were trying to put on a show that you were a tough guy and now you're saying that you don't have the stomach to kill someone?" Brennan asked, "You are very inconsistent. You should get your story straight."

"I'm tough, but I'm not a murderer," he looked away from the pictures, "I don't even know who those kids are, let alone who killed them. Why do you even suspect me? Who gave you my name? Was it that punk George? Because I'll give that rat bastard a piece of my mind next time I see him."

"You told their older brother, Robert Wilson, that you'd," he paused, looking down at his notes in front of him, "'make him pay, hard', didn't you?"

"Who told you that?" Bradshaw asked.

"Hey, I'm the one asking the questions here," Booth tapped on the metal table in front of him, "so let's try this again. Did you tell Robert Wilson you were going to make him pay?"

"Yeah, I said it, but that doesn't mean I killed his little brothers and sister," Donovan swore, "I can't believe you've been chasing me around for months based on something that crazy bat said. I'll tell you something, that kid has some serious problems. He's got more than a couple screws loose, if you know what I mean."

"No, I don't know what you mean," Brennan seemed interested now.

"The kid's a nut," he told them, "I mean, I didn't care. Business is business. Half of my clients are a couple french fries short of a Happy Meal, but this one, he was worse than most of them. He was obsessed with the girl who babysat his siblings. Like, really obsessed. At first no one thought anything of it. Everyone thought he just had a crush. But then, he asked her out one day, she said no, and he got really creepy. He started following her around, taking pictures of her when she wasn't looking. It was weird. Then he got clean at some point, probably to try his luck at getting with her again, so I didn't hear much from him anymore. And that bastard _still_ didn't even give me my three hundred buck."

Brennan and Booth exchanged glances with one another, both of them pretty sure that the other was thinking the same thing they were.

"He used to stalk this girl?" Booth asked.

"Totally. And that's putting it lightly."

"What was her name?"

Donovan took a little while to think.

"Savannah?" He tried, shaking his head, "Nah, that wasn't it. Sarina...Sabrina! Her name was Sabrina Daniels. Last time I saw her, she had long black hair down to her waist, those bright blue eyes, nice rack too," he seemed to think back to her, "damn, she really was hot."

"Alright great, she was hot, we get it," Booth rolled his eyes.

"But even if you didn't kill the Wilson children," Brennan started, changing the subject, "why did you try to kill my partner?"

"You're right, Bones, I forgot about that," Booth chimed in, "why did you blow up an abandon grocery store full of FBI officials?"

"I didn't!" Donovan insisted, "Is this another one of those things Robert told you?"

"Yeah, that and, you know, I got blown up a few months ago," he saw Donovan's expression change, "you're remembering that now, right? When you tried to kill me and several other federal agents."

"Robert told me to set the explosive to blow up a few hours before you all got there. He told me to blow up the building to get rid of my drugs so I didn't get busted. He said that he'd give me my three hundred bucks in return. Was he trying to kill you?"

"Yeah, Don, he was, and you helped him," Booth was growing annoyed that everyone was lying to them, making this case ten times more difficult than it needed to be, "I should arrest you for attempted murder. And I've got news for you, buddy, considering it was the attempted murder of several federal agents, you'll be in jail for a _long_ time if you get convicted."

"But I didn't mean to blow anyone up!"

"How do I know you're not lying, like every single other person we've talked to about this case?" It was obvious that he was getting fed up, "I'm tired of being lied to. So if threatening is what I have to do, then so be it."

"Please, man, I didn't mean to hurt anyone," Brennan had to admit, it was funny seeing the so called 'bad boy' pleading with her boyfriend, "I'm not lying, I swear. Listen, I'll give you Sabrina's address if that's what you want. I'll cooperate fully."

"Sabrina's address," Booth pondered over the thought, purposely trying to torture the cocky drug dealer, "hmm, I'm not sure if I'll need that."

"Then I'll give you something else, anything you need," he pled.

Booth stretched his shoulders, making another small 'hmm' noise.

"You know, Sabrina's address is enough," he finally said, seeing Donovan's shoulders slump over in relief, "we'll need to talk to her and make sure your story is legit. And if it's not," he paused, "well, then think of it this way, you'll have a real firm mattress in your jail cell."

Donovan nodded, swallowing hard as Booth stood up from where he was sitting on the edge of the table.

"Come on, Bones, let's go," Booth tapped her shoulder gently to urge her up, seeing her flash him a dirty look before she stood up next to him, smoothing her skirt down.

As they left the interrogation room, Brennan glanced over her shoulder at Donovan.

"Your partner is a scary dude," he told her when she turned around.

"You've never even seen him at his worst," she had to laugh lightly, before closing the door behind her.

* * *

"So do you think it was the girl?" Brennan asked, as they drove to Robert Wilson's former obsession's home.

"No, I think it was Robert Wilson," Booth told her, glancing at her, immediately looking back at the road afterwards.

"What makes you come to that conclusion? I know he's a stalker, but I don't think he would murder his own siblings. He seemed distraught over their deaths."

"He's a sociopath, Bones. Some sociopaths are good at pretending they can feel when they can't. That's how they get away with _being_ sociopaths."

"But he had no reason to kill them," she reminded him.

"Sabrina is their babysitter. She has a soft spot for them. Robert is jealous that Sabrina loves them and not him, so he kills her," he paused when he saw that Brennan wasn't completely on his side, "or, theory number two, Robert kills the kids to get back at Sabrina for rejecting him."

"I don't know," she didn't want to offend him by disagreeing, "maybe."

Booth glanced at her again.

"You're doing that thing where you say 'maybe' but you mean no," he told her.

"I just don't see how it all adds up," she said, "and that's putting aside the fact that we don't know who's lying and who's telling the truth."

"Robert Wilson is lying," he told her simply.

"You're only saying that because you don't like him."

"No, I'm saying that because Donovan Bradshaw is a wimp. He acts like he's some kind of 'grew up on the streets' bad boy, but as soon as you threaten him, he clams up and tells you whatever you want to know. Robert Wilson, on the other hand, is a psychopath and a liar."

Brennan simply shrugged as Booth pulled up to a little house, glancing at the address he had written on the note card to make sure he was at the right house before putting the car in park, taking out the keys, and getting out with his partner following close behind. He knocked on the door, putting his hands in his pockets as he waited for an answer. After only a minute, a young girl answered the door, looking like the description Bradshaw gave in the interrogation room.

"Sabrina Daniels?" Booth asked.

"Yes, that's me," she seemed slightly nervous, "can I help you with something?"

"Yeah I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, I work for the FBI," he glanced at Brennan when she nudged him with her elbow, "and this is my partner Doctor Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian. We're here to ask you a couple questions if you're feeling up to it."

Sabrina led them inside, closing the door behind them.

"Are you here about Brian, James, and Lily?" She asked, her voice seeming meeker now.

"Yes, we are," Brennan responded softly, "I assume you heard."

Sabrina nodded.

"It was all over the news," she said, taking a seat on the couch, gesturing for the two partners to sit as well, "they were such nice kids. I don't understand what kind of monster could have done this to three innocent, sweet kids."

"That's what we're here to figure out," Booth told her, "is there anything at all you'd be able to tell us that could help us out?"

Sabrina bit her lip in thought, then shook her head.

"No," she said, honestly, "nothing at all."

Brennan looked at her partner, feeling as if going there was completely pointless.

"How was your relationship with Robert Wilson?" Booth asked.

"Who?" Sabrina asked.

"Robert Wilson. The Wilson kids' older brother."

"Oh, Robert," she seemed to tense up slightly at the thought, "there's something not right about him. I'm not trying to sound mean or anything, but he gives me the creeps. I'm here alone a lot, since my parents are businessmen, and there was a period of time where I had to stay with one of my friends because I was nervous to be here alone."

"You were afraid he was going to harm you?" Brennan asked.

"Not necessarily," Sabrina shrugged, "he just, made me nervous. It was just a feeling. I'm not sure that it was legitimate though. It may have just been one of those things."

"Right," Booth didn't want to tell her that she had a feeling because she was being stalked by him, deciding to just leave that one be, "do you think he'd ever, harm his siblings?"

"Like I said, I didn't know him that well," she told them, "he asked me out once, I said no, and then we didn't talk for a while. The second time he asked me out was about two weeks before the kids died. That time I told him not to come near me anymore."

Booth and Brennan exchanged glances.

"Okay, thank you, that'll be all," Booth told her, standing up from the couch, knowing that now there was a little bit more than just his 'gut feeling' leading him to suspect Robert.

"Wait, before you guys go," she stopped them before they could leave, looking up at Brennan from where she sat, "how far along are you?"

"Three months," Brennan told her, suspicious as to why she wanted to know.

Sabrina laughed when she noticed her get slightly creeped out.

"Not trying to make you nervous or anything, I just really love children, that's all," she smiled brightly, looking up at Booth now, "I assume you're the father."

He was appalled that she could notice something that.

"Yeah but, how-"

"The way you look at each other is indescribable," she told them, "even when it's just a little glance. If you think you have a big secret, you don't. And if you do, then the people around you are very oblivious."

Booth had to laugh lightly, as he lead Brennan out of the house after saying goodbye to Sabrina and thanking her for her cooperation. Even though he knew some people just had a knack for that kind of thing, what she said made him nervous. Now he knew it wouldn't be long before the FBI figured them out, and he knew Brennan would not be able to handle having their partnership severed with everything that was going on with her at the time. Priority number one was keeping their partnership in tact.


	108. God Listened

**A/N: Hello everyone. Not much to say this time. This chapter was actually pretty fun to write, so tell me what you think of it. =]**

Chapter One Hundred Eight:

"God Listened"

Brennan was tapping away at her keyboard as she wrote her novel, but was hardly getting anything of use, since her stomach was rumbling so violently that it was making it hard to concentrate. That linked with the fact that she could smell her waffles cooking in the toaster made concentrating on her work nearly impossible.

She was alone in the apartment that night. Booth had asked if she would mind him stopping out for a drink on their way back from work. She could tell, just by the tone of his voice and his body language, that he wanted to be alone, so she offered to drop him off and drive his SUV back home, which he seemed grateful for. As much as they loved each other, they needed their space every now and then. And even though they would never tell each other when they wanted to be alone, in fear of hurting the other's feelings, they always knew.

Finally deciding that she couldn't get anything productive done until she ate something, she stood up and leaned on the counter in front of the toaster oven, watching and waiting for her waffles to become brown, which was, thanks to her, going to be a lot faster than it normally would have been. She had gotten Booth a new toaster oven, simply because she couldn't stand the old one, which took nearly twenty minutes to toast a piece of bread. Booth, frankly, hated the new one, but wouldn't say anything. It was a gift after all. But this new toaster was too complicated, with all these different settings and knobs. The old one was simple. Just one button and one knob. So instead of telling her that he hated it, he simply avoiding toasting things. That was the way things had been between them lately. They avoided hurting the other's feelings at all costs, not wanting to start an argument like the one a few days prior on the night that she broke the bowl. Neither of them were sure if that was a good thing.

Brennan took her eyes off of her waffles when she heard the front door open and shut, hearing Booth's keys rattle when he put them down on the coffee table in the living room. From the next room over, she could hear her partner mumbling a few lines to John Mellencamp's "Hurts So Good", seeming in a much better mood than he was when she dropped him off at the bar. When he entered the kitchen he was surprised to see her still awake, waiting for her food to be ready.

"Hiya, Bones," he smiled at her, seeing her smile back in response, "I thought you'd be asleep. I know you've been going to bed earlier lately."

"I couldn't sleep so I decided to work on my novel," she told him, as he joined her where she was standing in front of the toaster, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, "and then I got hungry while I was working."

When he kissed her cheek, she could smell the scotch on him.

"Making me waffles?" He asked playfully, "How thoughtful."

"I'm making myself waffles," she corrected him, "if you want some you can make your own."

"Ouch," he laughed, poking her side gently, "someone's cranky."

Brennan turned herself around in his arms to look at him, a small smile on her face.

"I'm just hungry," she assured him, "pregnant women are not pleasant when they are

hungry."

He chuckled.

"So I've noticed."

Before she could make a smart ass comment, he leaned down and claimed her lips, feeling her arms move to wrap around his neck when he did. She could taste the alcohol in his mouth, but it didn't seem to bother her much. If the alcohol put him in a better mood, she wasn't going to complain. Tipsy, flirty Booth was much more pleasant than sober, upset Booth. Just as he backed her up into the counter, she heard the toaster ding, indicating that he waffles were done.

"Booth?" She mumbled against his lips, speaking between kisses, "my waffles...are done."

"No worries, you can reheat them," he assured her.

Brennan had to laugh lightly, shaking her head and separating their lips.

"I want them now," she laughed, pressing her palm against his chest to keep him away when he leaned down to kiss her again.

"I want _you_ now."

She laughed a small, breathy laugh, surprised by his bluntness.

"Can you wait twenty minutes?"

Booth sighed dramatically, reluctantly letting her go.

"I guess," he half smiled.

Brennan smiled gratefully, cupping his face gently and leaning up to kiss him once more.

"Thank you for being patient," she smiled.

"Yeah, yeah," he chuckled, "Miss Temptress."

* * *

"Bren, sweetie, can you suck in a little more?" Angela attempted to zip up the back of her friend's dress, attempting to squeeze her into the little, pink bride's made's dress.

"Ange, I can't," Brennan was growing frustrated with the fact that she could no longer fit into her usual size, "I'm going to need a size bigger."

Angela sighed, more at the situation than her friend, knowing it was not her fault that she was gaining weight.

"Alright," she half groaned in frustration.

"I'm...sorry?" Brennan was confused as to why she was growing frustrated.

"No, no, it's not your fault," she promised, letting go of her zipper, allowing her to go back into the dressing room and slip out of the dress, "it's just, I'm really stressed out about this wedding. Maybe Hodgins and I should have, you know, thought all of this out a little more."

"Well you've been engaged for almost a year," Brennan reminded her, tossing the undersized dress over the door to give it back to Angela, "although, deciding to get married in two weeks was a little rash. You need at least a month's notice."

"Says who?"

"It's just a reasonable time frame."

Angela slung the new dress over the dressing room door, seeing the bottom disappear when Brennan pulled it in to try it on.

"You had virtually no time to plan. I won't be surprised if the wedding is a complete disaster," Brennan's lack of filter was kicking in again, as she pulled the new dress on and reached behind her to zip it up, "and not to mention, what are you going to do about the honeymoon?"

"We've already got it booked," Angela leaned against the wall as she spoke, "and thank you, so much, for being so supportive of my wedding."

"You know I want it to work out with you and Hodgins, I just don't think this wedding was one of your better ideas."

"Again, thank you."

"And why is Booth the Best Man? If Hodgins feels like he has to be, simply because I'm the Made of Honor and we're seeing each other, tell him that's not the case."

"Well most of Hodgins' friends are," Angela paused, searching for the appropriate word, "well, they're...they're weird. And Booth? Well he's the only one of his friends that is actually, personable. He'd be better in this kind of situation."

"Yes, of course, that makes sense," she stepped out of the dressing room in to show Angela the dress, "is this one okay?"

"It looks great, sweetie," she assured her, "and you can barely see little Brennan-Booth under there."

"Good, because we didn't tell Sweets yet, and I'm assuming he'll be there."

"Yeah, he'll be there. And I mean, he's going to figure it out eventually. You might as well tell him before he finds out on his own. He'll think you guys don't trust him."

"We don't trust him," Brennan told her, disappearing back into the dressing room to put her street clothes back on, "he works for the FBI, not us."

Angela was surprised to hear this.

"But he hasn't told the FBI about you guys sleeping together," she reminded her.

"This is different," she said, "sleeping together is just sleeping together. Sweets said he thought our relationship would fail within weeks, so maybe he just wasn't telling the FBI because he thought what we had was temporary. But a baby is permanent," she paused as she worked her blouse and dress pants back onto her body, "that's why I considered getting back together with Michael when I found out I was pregnant the first time. But then I remembered that I am perfectly capable of raising a baby on my own."

Angela felt her jaw drop, as she stayed silent for a few seconds, processing what she just heard.

"Come again?" She asked, "You were pregnant? With Michael Stires?"

"It was very brief, Angela," she assured her, "I was two months along when I miscarried."

"Is that why you were so worried about having a miscarriage?" Angela asked, finally linking the pieces together.

"Partially."

Angela paused, thinking that she was going to elaborate on this whole 'Michael Stires pregnancy scare', only to speak again when she didn't.

"When was this?" She asked.

Brennan came out of the dressing room, smoothing down her hair and handing Angela the dress to purchase with the rest of them.

"Remember a couple years ago when he came to D.C. for that refrigerator case?"

"Yes."

"I found out about a month after he left. We were safe, but apparently something happened. After the miscarriage I started taking birth control to avoid anything like that happening again. And I kept taking it until, well, three months ago."

"So you were pregnant for a month, and you didn't tell anyone?"

"It's not a big deal, Ange," she had to laugh, "it was years ago. And you're acting like I have some sort of 'secret child'. It was still just a mass of cells when I lost it."

Angela looked at her seriously.

"You should tell Booth."

"Why?" Brennan asked, surprised by the suggestion, "He knows I had a sex life before him, and I know he did to. He _has_ a child. An _actual_ child. I don't think he would care if I was pregnant and then had a miscarriage. You're making it a bigger deal than it needs to be."

"It'll help him understand why you kept pushing miscarriages into his face," she explained, "he probably thinks you were just being Brennan-ish about the whole thing when you kept talking about miscarrying, but if you tell him it was actually something you experienced, he'll be a lot more understanding about it."

"I don't know," Brennan shrugged, seeing her point, but not seeing why a former pregnancy was any of Booth's business, especially when it wasn't even his child, "maybe I'll tell him if it comes up. I'm not just going to bring it up for no reason. It's not really something I enjoy talking about. I figured you, of all people, would understand that."

"I do, sweetie," Angela promised, "it's not the most pleasant thing in the world, but it's something you should probably talk about if you want him to understand why you were so nervous about losing this baby."

"Like I said," Brennan pulled her purse over her shoulder as she spoke, "maybe I will talk to Booth about it, when the time is right."

* * *

Booth and Parker were out to ice cream, spending a little father-son quality time while Brennan and Angela went to pick out bride's made's dresses. There was a reason that Booth had asked his son to come out with him for the day, but he wasn't able to tell him yet, since the little boy hadn't stopped talking since they arrived. He didn't mind though. He liked listening to his son's stories. He liked knowing what was going on in his life, even though he couldn't be there for every single part of it.

"And when I finally found a long stick to poke it with, mom came outside, and she was really mad," Parker popped a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth as he talked to his father, "she made me stop and then she picked it up with a shopping bag and threw it in the garbage."

"You should have listened to her the first time she said not to touch it," Booth told him.

"She said not to pick it up, I didn't pick it up, I poked it. She never said anything about poking."

"Parker, don't be a wise guy," he warned, even though there was still a smile on his face, since he just enjoyed spending time with his son, "it was implied."

"Dad," the little boy complained.

"Nope, no, don't 'dad' me. You have to listen to your mother."

"You're no fun," he complained, slumping back in his chair.

"Hey, I'm buying you ice cream. If that isn't fun then I don't know what is."

Parker laughed.

"That's true, I guess. I like ice cream, so ice cream is always fun."

Booth had to laugh as well, seeing that Parker's bowl was almost empty while his had hardly been touched.

"You know why I asked you to come here?" He asked, after a long pause.

Parker shook his head, his big, brown eyes growing curious.

"No," he said, honestly, "am I in trouble because of the dead bird thing?"

"No," Booth laughed, "you're not in trouble. There's something I need to talk to you about."

"Are you sure I'm not in trouble?" Parker asked, "Because it sounds like I am."

"No, you're not in trouble, I promise," he laughed again, "there's just something I've been wanting to tell you for a while, but I think now's a good time."

Parker nodded, still looking at him curiously, not entirely sure if he believed that he wasn't in trouble, since it sounded like he was about to get lectured.

"Remember when you asked me about the little brother?" He asked, seeing his son nod, still unsure as to where he was going with this, "Well, you might get one, in six months."

Parker didn't respond, the confusion obvious on his face.

"Bones is having a baby," Booth tried again, "in six months," he paused, seeing his son's eyes light up, causing him to smile as well, "Bones 'll probably be annoyed that I told you without asking her if it was okay first, but I wanted you to know before you could tell on your own. Because pretty soon she's going to have a big belly, and you're going to be able to feel the baby kick, and all that good stuff."

"I'm going to have a little brother?" He asked, a big, genuine smile on his face.

"Or sister," Booth corrected him.

Parker simply smiled, the same big smile that his father had on.

"Guess what, dad?"

"What?"

"A few Sundays ago at church, I asked God for a little brother," he told him, "and now I'm going to get one. God listened."

Booth was glad that Brennan wasn't there at the moment, since she would probably start to ramble about how 'God' didn't inseminate her, and then start to explain the whole process of how she actually got pregnant. So Booth simply smiled, allowing his son to believe that this was the work of God, which, in a way, he felt that it may have been.

"Dad?" He asked again, when he only smiled in response.

"Yeah, bud?"

"I'm really happy."

Booth chuckled.

"Me too, buddy," he told him, "me too."


	109. Can You Picture It?

**A/N: This is pretty much a filler, to be honest, but hopefully you all enjoy it anyway. Next chapter, we jump to the Hodgela wedding. =] I'm pretty excited to write that one.**

Chapter One Hundred Nine:

"Can You Picture It?"

"You don't have to stay here," Brennan assured her partner, who's head was resting against her stomach as she laid flat on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling, "if you want to go out to Founding Fathers, or go get something to eat you can."

They were supposed to go get something to eat that night, but after Brennan was sick they decided to stay in, figuring that diner food would not do much to settle her uneasy stomach.

"Nah, I'm not going to leave you here by yourself when you're sick," he shrugged, his voice soft, vibrating against her fabric covered stomach, "besides, I'm bonding with the baby."

Brennan ran her fingers through his hair as he closed his eyes, looking content just laying there in silence, 'bonding' with the baby, who, Brennan would argue, still could not hear him, making his 'bonding' pointless.

"I just want to give birth to it already," she said, honestly, "pregnancy is not as glamorous as people make it out to be. I'm in a constant bad mood, I vomit on a daily basis, and what do I have to show for it? A tiny little bump that you can barely see."

"A tiny bump that will be a baby in six months," he reminded her, reaching up to take her hand comfortingly, "I know it's hard, Bones, but it'll be worth it."

"I know," she sighed, touching his cheek gently, "six more months and we'll have our baby. Can you picture it?"

"I sure can," Booth chuckled lightly at the image, "our little boy, all wrapped up in blue blankets, coming home for the first time to our new house, with the hundred and three inch plasma screen TV and the pool with the water slide."

"Or girl," Brennan reminded him, "wrapped up in pink blankets."

"And our friends can all come over to meet him, and they'll love him, I just know it."

"Or her."

"He'll be the biggest Flyers fan on the planet too."

Brennan laughed lightly, allowing him to have his little fantasy, not bothering to correct him anymore on how there was still just as much a chance that it was a girl. There was a long pause between them as they simply laid in silence, not feeling the need to fill it, until Brennan finally spoke again, her voice soft and vulnerable.

"I love our baby, Booth," she told him, honestly.

"Me too," he looked up at her with a smile.

Brennan bit her lip as she looked down at him, barely noticing her eyes starting to water until she saw her partner's smile turn into a concerned expression.

"What's the matter?" He asked, picking his head up and moving back up so they were face to face, "Overwhelmed?"

Brennan shook her head, blinking back the tears to make sure they stayed in.

"I..." she paused, as he looked at her intently, "I had a miscarriage."

She could see the color promptly drain out of his face, and she quickly corrected herself, feeling like an idiot for scaring him like that. By the way she worded it, he must have thought she meant that she miscarried this baby.

"No, no, please, don't get upset," she put a hand on his shoulder, "I didn't mean with our baby. It was a long time ago, before I was with you."

Booth let out a long sigh, his heart rate slowing a bit from, what may have been, the scariest moment of his life.

"Oh," he had to let out a relieved chuckle, feeling guilty when he did, "I'm sorry for the laugh, I was just, nervous."

"It's okay," she promised.

There was another pause between them.

"Do you want to...talk about it?" He asked.

Brennan nodded.

"Angela thinks I should."

Booth was silent, giving her the signal to go ahead.

"It was with Michael Stires, when he came to D.C. for the case with the girl in the refrigerator. We were sleeping together during that time period," she paused as she looked at him, feeling as if she was under a microscope, "I found out I was with child about a month into the pregnancy, but I kept it a secret, because, I don't know, Angela would become nosy, and you," she paused again, "you would probably think I was easy or something."

Booth had to laugh lightly.

"Of course I wouldn't."

"Booth, don't forget, this was before we knew each other well. It wasn't even a year yet. You would have thought I was some sort of sinner or something for getting pregnant with a man who I wasn't in a relationship with and who was only in town for a few weeks."

Booth laughed again.

"You're crazy," he said, simply.

"Anyway, I was glad I didn't tell anyone, because I lost the baby only a month later. And even though it was a mistake, and the father wasn't part of the metaphorical picture, I was still upset. I had already started planning, and thinking of names, and then it was gone. Just like that," she looked at him innocently, "and that's why I was so hesitant to talk about and tell people about our baby. I didn't want something like that to happen again, and then have people hovering with 'I'm sorry's, just making things worse than it would have been. If I lost the baby, I would want to deal with it in private, with just you and I. And to be honest, I was very afraid of having another miscarriage. It was extremely unpleasant, and I knew you would be distraught."

"Bones-"

"I still am afraid," she admitted quietly, "just because the risks are lower now doesn't mean they're completely gone. And now that everyone knows..."

Her voice trailed off, and he pulled her into a comforting hug, not even bothering to ask what she meant by 'everyone' since, as far as he knew, she hadn't told the squints yet. He felt that when she was pouring her heart out and being vulnerable for him, it was not the best time to start asking petty questions.

"It's okay," he promised, rubbing her back comfortingly as she sighed and rested her cheek against his shoulder, "our little guy is going to be just fine."

Brennan nodded, knowing that he couldn't really promise her that, but allowing herself to just believe him, for the sake of not being upset anymore. She sighed, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she held him tight to her.

"Thank you, Booth," she whispered.

"Anytime," he laughed lightly, "even though I'm not completely sure what I did."

Brennan was the one to laugh this time, placing her palm over his chest, able to feel his heart beating steadily through the thin material of his shirt.

"For having such faith in something you don't know," she explained, "it's irrational, really. When you have faith, and you make promises that you can't possibly keep, I start to have some faith as well. And then, for just a few seconds, I get a glimpse of what it's like to think like you, or people like you."

"Well I'm glad to know I'm having an impact on you," he smiled.

"No, I don't mean to pop your bubble, but it's just, when you say something with such certainty, I can't help but-"

"Bones, Bones, Bones," he cut her off, with a laugh, "call it what you want, but I have an influence on you. Before you were with me, you would have never done _anything_ irrational. And, on a side note, the phrase is 'burst your bubble', not 'pop your bubble'."

"That isn't necessarily true," she said defensively, "the first night we slept together, when I blurted out that I _loved_ you, before I even knew what love was, or believed in it, for that matter," she chuckled, "_that_ was completely irrational."

"If you say so," he said, cutely.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing, I'm just saying."

"Just saying what?"

"Nothing, Bones."

Booth laughed and Brennan looked at him, uncertainty in her eyes.

"Now you're confusing me," she informed him.

"_I'm_ confusing _you_?" He smiled proudly, "damn. I'm better than I thought."

Brennan smiled and rolled her eyes, quickly changing the subject to something she was more comfortable with, since being confused was not something that happened to her often, and, frankly, she didn't like it.

"I bought alluring lingerie for when we go to Maryland for Hodgins and Angela's wedding," she told him, a small smile on her face.

"Bones," she could see him blush as he looked up to the ceiling, "you couldn't have waited until we got there to tell me that?"

"Well it just popped into my head, and I figured you'd appreciate it," she shrugged, "Angela helped me pick it out, but I know what you like, for the most part."

"Mind explaining what, exactly, you need lingerie for?"

"Again, I figured you would appreciate it," she shrugged, "Angela was buying it for her honeymoon, so I figured I would get my own while we were already shopping for it. No use letting her have all the fun, right?"

"And now I won't be able to stop thinking about it for the next week," he laid flat on his back and let out a long sigh, "you, woman, are going to be the death of me."

"Doesn't seem like a terrible way to go," she shrugged.

Booth kissed her cheek.

"You're a smart ass, you know that?"

Brennan simply smiled, laying down next to him and resting her head against his chest.

"Booth?" She asked.

"Yeah?"

"I want to tell Parker about the baby soon."

It was silent between them.

"Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones, about that," he started, warily, "today, when you were dress shopping with Angela, Parker and I kind of had some father-son bonding time."

"I'm struggling to see what this has to do with anything," she told him.

"Because I'm not finished," he sat up slightly to look down at her, as she propped herself up on her elbow, "well, we went out to ice cream, and while we were there, it's, uh, possible that I may have told him."

Brennan looked hurt when she heard the news.

"You told him without me?" She asked.

Booth brushed a hand through his hair, feeling fairly uncomfortable when she looked at him with those big, innocent eyes.

"I'm sorry, Bones, I just," he paused, tripping over his words, "I didn't know when you would want to tell him, because you were pretty adamant about not telling him, and I didn't want him to figure it out on his own, you know?"

He held his breath, just waiting for the next big fight to start, only to be surprised when she simply sighed and sat all the way up, looking down at her knees when she spoke.

"I understand," she said simply.

"You do?" He asked.

Brennan nodded.

"I would have liked to have been there," she shrugged, "but what's done is done."

"You're not mad?" He asked, genuinely surprised that she was taking this so lightly.

"No," she said, softly, "it's nothing worth being angry over. I just would have preferred if we told him together."

"I'm sorry," he said, honestly, touching her face gently to coax her to look at him, "I really am sorry, Bones. I should have waited for you."

"It's not a big deal."

He noticed, only then, that he felt worse when she acted like this than when she was actually angry. The way she ran her fingers through her hair uncomfortably and looked up at him with those eyes that told him that she was upset but didn't want to say anything, made him feel like the most terrible person in the world for simply telling his son about his soon to be little sibling.

"I, uh," he paused, unsure of what he wanted to say, just wanting to change the subject, "do you want to, talk about baby names?"

Her eyes looked more alert when the subject of names came up.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about that," she said, "I wanted to ask you if we could, name the baby after my mother."

Booth couldn't help but smile.

"Christine?"

"Or Christian, if it's a boy. We could call him Chris for short," she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion when he laughed, "what is so funny?"

"Nothing," he chuckled, "I just didn't think you would want to name your kid Christian," he corrected himself when he saw the look on her face, "I think it's a good name, don't get me wrong, it's just, biblical."

"Actually, Christian is not a biblical name. And besides, it has nothing to do with Christianity. I just thought it would be the best male version of Christine."

"What about Christopher?" He asked.

"I am not a fan of Christopher," she crossed her arms over her chest, "Booth, if you don't like the name, just say so. We'll pick a different one."

"No, Bones, I like it, honestly," he promised, moving his hand down to her stomach, "I like it. Now I can call him Chris instead of 'the baby'."

"It could still be Christine," she reminded him, once again.

Booth ignored her, glancing at the clock to see that it was getting late.

"We should probably get to sleep," he told her, "don't wanna be tired for work tomorrow."

"You're right," Brennan agreed, reaching over to turn off the light, "goodnight, Booth."

"Night, Bones," he kissed her forehead and placed his hand back on her stomach, running his fingers gingerly over the small bump, "night, Chris."

Brennan placed her hand over his, a small smile present on her face. After a while, when she thought he was asleep, she finally spoke.

"Night, Chris," she whispered, unaware that her partner was still awake, and listening to her.


	110. This is a Happy Day

**A/N: Since it's one A.M. here, it's technically Easter, so Happy Easter, to those of you who celebrate it like me. =D This chapter is your Easter gift. I've only been to one wedding in my entire life, so I had to google wedding ceremonies and what everyone said, so I'm not taking credit for the words spoken during the wedding. I'm pretty sure those are common wedding things, right? xD Oh, I'm so clueless.**

**And I estimated the other day that I think there's about six or seven chapters left of 'Getting There', since I already know exactly what I'm doing and how this will end. Yes, so sad, but I will start the sequel as soon as I'm done with this one, so don't worry. =]**

Chapter One Hundred Ten:

"This is a Happy Day"

"You excited, Bones?" Booth asked, as they stood in front of the big mirror in their Maryland hotel room, and he zipped up her dress for her.

"Why would I be excited? I'm not the one getting married," she reminded him.

"Oh, come on, Bones, put on a happy face," he laughed lightly, seeing her roll her eyes and smile in the reflection of the mirror, "this is a happy day. Our friends are getting married. You know. Vows? 'Kiss the bride'? 'happily ever after'?"

"And I'm sure Angela will be very happy," she turned around once he was finished zipping her dress, smiling up at him, "I hope she is. I hope she and Hodgins get this 'happily ever after' that you speak of. It isn't likely though. Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce, you know."

"Bones, is it possible for you to just, enjoy? Not suck the fun out of everything?"

"I'm not," she said defensively, "I'm just stating a fact."

"Well you might not want to state that fact to Angela."

"I won't, I promise, it stays between you and I," she paused, "and the rest of the general population that is aware of that statistic."

Booth put his hands on her shoulders, which were exposed by the strapless dress, and slid his hands gently down her biceps.

"What's the matter with you today?" He asked.

"Nothing," she promised, "I'm just hungry, and my back hurts."

"We'll grab something to eat on the way to the church," he promised, leaning down to kiss her forehead gently, "hey," he waited for her to look at him before he continued, "cheer up, okay? You're going to have fun. And, by the way, you look damn hot in that dress."

Brennan half smiled.

"You don't look too bad yourself," she fixed his bow tie when she spoke, "just try not to spill anything on your tux."

"I'm a grown man, Bones," he reminded her.

"A grown man who still manages to spill coffee on his shirt at least once a week."

"You know, I actually have a job that requires me to be there on time and to actually listen to people of authority. I don't have time to drink my coffee at a nice, slow pace the way you do."

"I have a boss too, incase you forgot."

"Cam hardly counts. She doesn't care what you do."

"Sure she does. Just because I have passes to defy her doesn't mean she doesn't care what I do. She wanted to fire me when she first started working at the Jeffersonian."

"And then she didn't because I told her if she did, she would lose me," he smiled a cocky smile, "she wanted to get in my pants so bad back then."

Brennan rolled her eyes, but the smile remained on her face.

"You know, not every woman in the world wants to sleep with you," she reminded him.

"She did," he poked her shoulder playfully, "_you_ did."

"I still do," she reminded him, mimicking his actions, "I happen to find your symmetry very pleasing. Especially when you're all dressed up like that."

"Well then, maybe I'll have to dress up more," his words were smothered when she pressed her lips gently to his.

After only a few seconds of the lip-lock, Brennan pulled away, wrapping her arms around her partner's neck.

"You know, there's still an hour before the wedding starts," she said suggestively.

"You know I'd love to," he kissed her cheek again, smoothing his hands back down her arms, "you know I'd _really_ love to. Especially after hearing you talk about your lingerie all week, but we don't want to be late."

"You're right," she agreed, with a small, disappointed smile, "Angela would be angry."

Booth smiled.

"Rain check?" He asked, "Tonight?"

"It's a date," she smiled mischievously, "don't want that lingerie to go to waste."

* * *

Cam rocked back and forth on her heels, glancing at her watch every few seconds as she waited anxiously outside the church.

"Do you have any idea when we're supposed to go in?" Cam asked, glancing from her watch to Booth back to her watch, "because if we're even ten seconds late, Angela will pop a blood vessel. She already started getting all Bridezilla-ish before and kicked Brennan and I out of her room."

"Would you relax, Camille?" Booth had to laugh, as he rubbed his girlfriends shoulders, since she was complaining about her back hurting, "it's just Angela. I don't think she'll be mad."

"She was getting snippy before," Brennan told him, arching her shoulders under his strong hands, "Cam and I were in her room helping her get ready and she started yelling about how if we're not going to help we can just leave."

"Did you start your whole marriage rant, by any chance?" He asked.

"No, we were just, in her room. We figured she would want the moral support."

"Apparently she didn't," Cam scoffed, "you know, I never understood why women think they can just lash out at the world on their wedding day."

"Give her a break, guys," Booth tried, "this is her day."

"Hey, what are you guys still doing in here?" Sweets asked, when he met up with the three of them, "Angela is going to be here any minute. And where is Zack?"

"Zack couldn't make it, he had to go to Michigan for some family thing," Booth told him, as he continued to work the knots out of his partner's shoulders, "should we go inside?"

"Probably," Sweets told him, "and why are you giving Doctor Brennan a massage?"

"Her back hurts," Booth shrugged, letting go of her shoulders so they could link arms, "I mean, really, is it that strange that a man rubs his girlfriend's shoulders?"

"You know he's nosy," Brennan reminded him quietly, as the music started to play, signaling that it was time to go inside, "he's probably looking into it from some sort of psychological standpoint."

Brennan jumped when she felt someone tap on her shoulder.

"Doctor Brennan, you are aware that I can still hear you, correct?" Sweets asked, his arm linked with Cam's as they made their way into the church.

"It's not a secret that you think everything is your business," she shrugged, looking at him over her shoulder, "everybody in the lab discusses it when you're not there."

"Bones, that's called gossiping, and normally when you talk about someone behind their back, you don't broadcast it," Booth whispered to her.

"I talk about you behind your back," she shrugged, "I was telling Angela about how you cried when we got the baby's sonogram," she made sure to keep that part extra quiet and between them, since Sweets had made it clear that he could still hear, "we all talk about each other. I'd hardly call it gossip."

She looked up at him when she didn't receive a response.

"You told the squints I cried at the sonogram?" He asked, looking sincerely hurt, "Why'd you go and do that?"

"It came up in conversation, Booth, it really wasn't a big deal," she lowered her voice more when they actually began to walk down the isle, able to see Hodgins waiting at the end for his soon-to-be wife.

"Except it _is_ a big deal, Bones. First of all, I didn't cry, and second of all, you don't just go around telling people about our personal lives. What's the matter with you?"

Even though she didn't want him to be upset with her, she had to find it just the tiniest bit amusing that he was still denying that he cried.

"Booth, I-"

"No, no, stop," he cut her off sharply, "I'm not discussing this with you right now. We'll talk about it later."

"But-"

"No. Drop it."

"Are you mad?"

"Yes."

She was a little taken back by his response, expecting his usual: 'no, I'm not mad, just annoyed', or something along those lines. She wasn't sure if he had ever just responded with 'yes' when she asked if he was mad.

"Booth, I'm sorry. I-"

"Bones," she was growing quite tired of him cutting her off, "I'm not going to argue with you right now. We're almost down the isle, and this is Hodgins and Angela's day. We're not talking about this today."

"So you're just going to be mad for the rest of the day?"

"It's possible."

Brennan looked at the floor as they walked, all of the sudden, feeling a wave of nausea wash over her. She knew it had to be the combination of nerves, from being part of a huge ceremony such as this, knowing her partner was angry with her, and maybe those corn flakes she had for breakfast, but, either way, her stomach felt very uneasy.

"Booth," she paused, knowing that he was just going to grow more annoyed the more she kept trying to talk to him, when he specifically asked her not to, "I really don't feel well."

"Don't even try it," he said, assuming she was just pulling the whole 'I don't feel well' card to get him to change his mind about being mad at her.

"I'm serious, Booth, I really feel sick."

"If you think you're going to throw up, don't."

"That was terrible advice."

"Well, I don't know what else to tell you."

Brennan huffed as they reached the end of the isle, letting go of his arm and going to where she needed to be. As 'Here Comes The Bride' played and Angela walked down the isle, she tried to keep her focus on her friend, and the ceremony that was taking place, and not how incredibly nauseous she felt. She knew she must have been fidgeting, but no one seemed to notice. They all seemed to focused on the bride and groom to even care what the wedding party was doing.

"Dearly beloved," the priest, who was a close friend of Hodgins' family, started, "we are gathered here today, in the sight of God and in the face of this company, to join together Jack Stanley Hodgins and Angela Pearly Gates Montenegro in holy matrimony, which is an honorable estate, instituted by God, and therefor is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, and in the love of God."

Brennan glanced at her partner, their eyes meeting as she looked at him pleadingly. He smiled a small smile as the bride and groom exchanged their written vows. As much as he wanted to be annoyed at her, Booth couldn't stay mad at her on a day like this. This was a day based on love, and even though she pissed him off sometimes, he still loved her.

"The circle of a ring symbolizes unity and eternity. Gold represents that which is precious and valued. As you give these rings to each other, our prayer is that your love will continue in precious unity forever. Wear these rings as symbols of your love for one another and of what you have pledged this day," the priest spoke, "Jack, please take this ring and place it upon Angela's finger, and say to her, 'I, Jack Hodgins, take you, Angela Montenegro, to be my lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, 'til death do us part'."

"I, Jack Hodgins, take you, Angela Montenegro, to be my lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, 'til death do us part."

He snuck a kiss onto her hand after he placed the ring on her finger, receiving a smile from her after he did.

"Angela, please take this ring and place it upon Jack's finger, and say to him, 'I, Angela Montenegro take you, Jack Hodgins, to be my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, 'til death do us part'."

Angela smiled as she placed the ring on his finger.

"I, Angela Montenegro, take you, Jack Hodgins, to be my lawfully wedded husband," she paused to smile a big smile, "to have and to hold from this day forward. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, 'til death do us part."

"Then, by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife," the bride and the groom watched each other excitedly when the priest spoke, "you may kiss the bride."

When they kissed, the church erupted into cheers for the newlyweds, both of them looking beyond happy to now be Mr. and Mrs. Hodgins. Brennan and Booth exchanged smiles again, and when the couple's kiss broke, Brennan tapped Angela on the shoulder to give her a tight hug.

"Congratulations, Ange," she told her.

"Thank you, sweetie," Angela's laugh was giddy, as she pulled away to look at her, her smile fading just a bit, "you alright? You don't look so hot."

"I actually feel very sick," she told her, honestly, "do you think we'd be able to postpone the wedding pictures, for just a few minutes?"

"Of course, Bren. Go, go to the bathroom before you vomit all over my dress."

Brennan had to laugh lightly as she made her way to the bathroom, having to weave through crowds of people to get there.

"Where's Doctor Brennan going?" Sweets asked the bride, after he congratulated her, "Don't we have to take pictures?"

"She'll be right back, she doesn't feel well," Angela gave him a minimal amount of details, knowing that he didn't know about her pregnancy.

Meanwhile, as Brennan tried to collect herself after she was sick, she looked in the mirror, fixing her hair and smoothing down her dress. When she opened the bathroom door, she was surprised to see her partner outside, waiting for her, holding out a stick of gum to her once she came out.

"Gum?" He asked, a small smile on his face.

Brennan took the piece of mint gum and popped it into her mouth.

"Thanks," she said quietly, looking up at him sincerely, "listen, Booth, I'm sorry if I upset you when I talked about you behind your back. I didn't think it was a big deal."

"It's okay," he assured her, "and it's not a big deal, it's just," he paused, "what's between us should stay between us. What goes on between us is ours. Do you understand what I mean?"

She nodded.

"I'm sorry," she apologized for the second time.

Booth simply pulled her into a hug, kissing the top of her head.

"It's okay," he promised her, again, "let's just go enjoy the rest of the day, and put this behind us, alright?"

Brennan nodded again, letting go of him to take his hand.

"That would be satisfactory," she said.


	111. I Want That

**A/N: Okay, so I worked very hard to get this chapter out to you guys as soon as possible, so here it is. =] I'm very excited to see how you all react to this one, since this is a very important chapter. So don't hesitate to leave your reviews *points to review button*, since I'd really like to know how you guys feel about this one. =]**

**The songs used were 'Forever' by Chris Brown and 'Breathe' by Faith Hill. I chose the song 'Breathe' as Brennan and Booth's song because, not only is it one of my favorites, but I found it very suiting for the two of them.**

Chapter One Hundred Eleven:

"I Want That"

Brennan looked up at her partner when a glass of water was set down in front of her.

"Here you go," he smiled charmingly, "a nice water on the rocks."

She had to laugh lightly as she picked it up and took a small sip, dinging their glasses together when he held his out in a 'cheers' type gesture.

"You know, I'm very jealous that you get to drink and I don't," she told him honestly, envying the fact that he was sipping on scotch instead of water, "I'm going to be the only sober one here, and it's only two in the afternoon."

"Then I guess I'll just have to drink twice as much to make up for the fact that you can't," he only half joked with her, as he took a seat next to her.

"I'd appreciate it if you could stay somewhat sober," she had to laugh.

"Well what is the fun in that?" He asked playfully, "Like you said, everyone's going to be drunk."

"Please, Booth, I would like there to be at least one person who I can engage in an intelligible conversation with by three P.M.."

Booth sighed dramatically, only messing around with her and not actually caring that he couldn't get completely drunk. Honestly, he didn't really want to anyway. When he drank that much it made him feel like his father, which was a feeling that he was not very fond of.

"Fine," he said, as if he were making some sort of huge sacrifice, "You can cut me off after my tenth glass of scotch."

"Booth..."

"I'm just kidding, Bones. I can handle my liquor. I know when I've had enough."

"I believe you," she assured him, with a small smile.

Booth set his still half full glass of scotch on the table next to her water, and stood back up, holding his hand out to her.

"Come on, let's go dance," he said, as she took his hand and allowed him to help her up, even though she didn't need the help.

"I was never a good dancer," she reminded him, as he practically had to drag her out to where everyone was dancing and having a good time, "with slow songs, I've always at least had people to lead me, but with this kind of dancing, I'm always very awkward and clumsy."

"Like you always are?" He teased, receiving a frown of disapproval as he took her hand and spun her playfully around, "Aw, lighten up, Temperance, you're fine. It's easy. All you have to do is find your rhythm, and just, move."

"It's the finding my rhythm part that seems to give me trouble," she told him, keeping his hand in hers, just to make sure she didn't make a fool of herself just yet, especially in front of Hodgins' and Angela's families, "I don't seem to have any at all."

"Everyone has rhythm," he assured her, happy to keep his hold on her hand while she attempted to find the rhythm she swore she didn't have, "just listen to the music and move. Honestly, Bones, you can name every single part of the human body, but _this_ gives you difficulty? You're so odd sometimes."

Brennan simply rolled her eyes as she did as he told her and listened to the beat of the music playing. She looked at all the people around them, some of them seeming like they had experience with this sort of 'let loose' kind of dancing, like Angela, and some of them looking just as clumsy and awkward as Brennan imagined herself to be. She assumed those were the people who already found the open bar.

_Imma take you there  
__Imma take you there  
__So don't be scared, I'm right here, ya' ready?  
__We can go anywhere  
__Go anywhere  
__But first, it's your chance  
__Take my hand  
__Come with me_

_It's like I waited my whole life  
__for this one night  
__It's gon' be me, you, and the dance floor  
__'Cause we only got one night  
__double your pleasure  
__double your fun  
__and dance forever._

"Look at you, you're doing better than most of the people out here," Booth had to laugh, pulling her out of her own head.

Brennan had barely noticed that she began to move, finally letting go of her partner's hand and 'feeling' the music, as he would say, the way she had tried to do when she and Angela went to the club years ago.

"This song is actually very good," she spoke loudly over the music, feeling her partner take her hand once again to twirl her.

"It's tolerable," he somewhat agreed, not feeling as strongly about the Chris Brown song as she was, "easy enough to dance to."

"Now who's being the buzz kill?" She joked, as he captured her waist between his hands to pull her to him, "You can't just agree?"

"You know I don't 'just agree'," he had to laugh, as she placed her hands on his shoulders in order to move with him.

Brennan looked over at Hodgins and Angela, immediately turning her attention back to her partner when she felt his hands travel lower on her waist.

"Look at Angela and Hodgins," she said, looking back over to the newlyweds.

Booth turned his attention to where she was looking.

"Yeah, they're really happy," he agreed, knowing that was what she meant without her having to say it.

"I hope they aren't part of the statistic," she said, all of the sudden feeling guilty about the comment she made earlier about fifty percent of marriages ending in divorce.

"They won't be," he assured her, "look at them. They love each other."

"I'm sure most of the couples who's marriages ended in divorce loved each other at one point," she reminded him.

"But, it's not that simple, baby," he tried to explain, "the people who's marriages ended in divorce, for the most part, probably thought they loved each other. But not everything is meant to be. For some people, they think it's love, but it just doesn't work out."

"I don't understand you," Brennan told him honestly, leaning closer to him so she didn't have to speak as loudly, keeping their rhythm when she did, "you always used to rave about love before we were together, like it was so strong, and so permanent, and now you're the one saying that you may think that something is love when it isn't."

"Bones, I know that I love you," he wanted to make sure that they were clear on that, "that's not what I mean. I am so in love with you, Bones, and I know that."

"I know," she was confused as to why he was stressing that, "am I supposed to think otherwise?"

"No, I just, didn't want you to take everything I'm saying the wrong way. I don't want you to think that just because I think that some people's love isn't the real thing, I didn't want you to, you know-"

"I know," she laughed, "if we were married, we would not be part of the statistic."

Booth felt slightly uncomfortable when she brought that up. The only thing he was dreading about this wedding was it bringing up the subject of them getting married again. And it was going well, until she said that.

"_If_ we were married," he chuckled awkwardly, "which, we're not."

"Yes, of course," Brennan could tell that he was uncomfortable, causing her the same discomfort as she looked up at him, "um, I'm starving. We should eat."

"Yeah, sure," Booth chuckled, letting go of her waist so they could go get some food, leaving the wedding conversation behind.

* * *

As the hours ticked by, and the sun was long gone, a few people started to leave the reception. For the most part, close family and friends stayed though, and, as Brennan suspected, the vast majority of them were so drunk that they could barely stand anymore, Sweets being one of them.

"Agent Booth," he slurred, staggering over to their table, "why aren't you and Doctor Brennan dancing? I'm having so much fun. Dancing is so much fun."

Booth had to laugh at the sloppy drunk psychologist. He was so out of it that he didn't even notice that Brennan was over talking to Angela and Hodgins.

"Sweets? Why don't you just, sit down and relax, buddy," he gestured towards an empty chair, "You need water or anything?"

"No, no, I'm fine," he assured him, "I just need to, sit here for a while."

"Alright, if you need anything..."

"I will, and thank you."

When Sweets rested his head on the table, Booth moved the glasses and plates to make sure he didn't knock drinks over or get cake on his face. Even though Sweets bothered him, and he liked to pretend that he didn't like him, he always felt protective of the young therapist, like an older brother. He looked out for him. Just as he was about to ask if he wanted something to eat to soak up the alcohol in his stomach, he felt Brennan tap him on the shoulder.

"Hi," he smiled, looking over his shoulder to look at her.

Brennan held out her hand to him.

"Can we dance?" She asked.

Booth was surprised that she was asking, since she was not the biggest fan of dancing, especially to slow songs.

"Sure," he took her hand to stand up with her, "but may I ask why?"

Brennan smiled.

"I love this song," she admitted.

"You know this song?" He asked, "Wow."

"I know a lot of music," she laughed lightly, tugging him to the dance floor, "now sh. I want to dance. And in order to dance, I need to hear the music so I can find my rhythm."

"Aw, listen to you," as he pulled her close, and they began to sway to the music, "you're a fast learner."

Brennan simply nodded, resting her head against his shoulder as they moved.

_I can feel the magic floating in the air.  
__Being with you gets me that way.  
__I watch the sunlight dance across your face  
__and I've never been this swept away._

_And all my thoughts just seem to settle on the breeze  
__When I'm lying wrapped up in your arms  
__The whole world just fades away  
__the only thing I hear  
__is the beating of your heart. _

Brennan shifted the position of her head slightly so she could listen to his heartbeat, as the lyrics of song mentioned. His heartbeat was calming, serene almost. She was fairly confident, as sappy as it sounded, that she could fall asleep to the soft sound.

'_Cause I can feel you breathe  
__it's washing over me  
__and suddenly I'm melting into you.  
__There's nothing left to prove,  
__baby all we need is just to be.  
__Caught up in the touch  
__slow and steady rush.  
__Baby, isn't that the way that love's supposed to be?  
__I can feel you breathe._

_Just breathe._

If they were married, they wouldn't be part of the statistic. Brennan knew that. There was no way they would. As he held her close, and they slow danced to one of her favorite songs, she wasn't sure if she ever felt more content, more loved. Seven months ago, she didn't even believe in love, and now, there she was. That was one of the things she was willing to admit that he was right about. But she didn't have to tell him that. He knew. They didn't need to say it. Every time they held each other close, every time they kissed, every time they made love, they knew.

_In a way I know my heart is waking up  
__As the walls come tumbling down  
__Closer than I've ever felt before  
__And I know, and you know  
__there's no need for words right now. _

Walls. Yes, Booth was the only man who could make her walls come down. He was the only man who knew the truth of her. The horrible childhood she endured, the way she closed herself off and pushed people away because she was afraid to get too close. But he loved her anyway. He always would, because, to him, she was amazing. She was vulnerable to him, and she was able to be that way because she loved him, and knew that he would never take advantage of that.

"Booth?" Brennan whispered, her voice soft, unable to be heard by anyone other than her partner.

"Yes, baby?"

She was too at peace to even complain about the pet name.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

She paused, listening to his heart for a few more beats before she spoke again.

"Can this be our song?"

Booth chuckled softly at the sentimental question.

"Of course."

'_Cause I can feel you breathe  
__it's washing over me  
__and suddenly I'm melting into you.  
__There's nothing left to prove.  
__Baby, all we need is just to be.  
__Caught up in the touch  
__slow and steady rush.  
__Baby, isn't that the way that love's supposed to be?  
__I can feel you breathe. _

_Just breathe. _

_Caught up in the touch  
__slow and steady rush.  
__Baby isn't that the way that love's supposed to be?  
__I can feel you breathe. _

Booth leaned down to kiss her softly, just the softest kiss sending shivers running through her body, and causing goose bumps to cover her arms.

_Just breathe._

"Booth?" She asked again, hesitantly breaking the kiss.

"Bones?"

"It's getting late."

"Yes, it is."

"Can we, say goodnight to Angela and Hodgins now?"

Booth kissed her softly again, knowing exactly what she was asking.

"Yes," he told her, unwrapping his arms from around her, "come on."

_I can feel the magic floating in the air.  
__Being with you gets me that way._

After they congratulated their friends one last time, wished them luck, and told them they hoped they had a good time in Aruba on their honeymoon, Brennan and Booth made their way back to the hotel, neither of them having to speak the entire ride home.

* * *

The plan was not for there to be conversation when they got back to the hotel, but once they were there, Brennan couldn't help but speak, stepping out of her heels.

"I'm happy for them," she told her partner, as he started to pull the bow-tie, which he hated so very much, out of his collar, "they did not stop smiling the entire day."

"That's usually how people are when they get married," he had to laugh lightly.

"I want that."

Booth felt his heart flutter when she spoke the words, but knew he must have been interpreting it wrong. She was tired. It was a long day, and she was pregnant and hormonal. She must have not realized how it sounded.

"To be happy like that?" He asked, keeping his tone light.

Brennan nodded.

"Yes," she assured him, "but, I also want, that."

"Want what, Bones?"

"I want, what Angela and Hodgins have."

Now he knew he was not mishearing.

"You want, what they have?"

She nodded again.

"All of it?"

Another few nods.

"I," she paused, swallowing the nervous lump in her throat, "I would like to marry you."

Booth could swear his heart stopped, and his whole world was flipped upside down. He should have seen this coming. When she talked about how, if they were married, they wouldn't be part of the statistic. The way she had asked him to slow dance with her, listened to his heartbeat as they danced, whispered that she loved him, for no reason, other than just to say it. He should have seen this coming, he knew he should have, but, then again, this was Bones. No one would have expected her to decide, in just one night, that she wanted to marry him.

_She just said it, _his mind chanted at him, _she said it. She wants to marry you. Temperance Brennan wants to marry you._

"You would?" His heart was pounding, and his voice was hoarse.

"Yes," she whispered, stepping closer to him, cupping his face gently and bringing his eyes up to meet hers, "yes, Booth."

"Then...then let's do it," he stuttered, his hands shaking as he moved them to circle her small wrists, which were still holding his face, "let's get married."

"Okay," she agreed, with a small, nervous laugh.

Booth shook his head and kissed her lips softly.

"Tonight," he saw her pupils dilate when he spoke the word, "marry me. Right now."

**Yes, a cliffhanger. I am horrible, I'm sorry. xD**


	112. Your Hands Are Shaking

**A/N: Okayy, here's the big conclusion to last chapter everyone. =] This one didn't take me as long to write, because I had most of it pre-written. And it's getting closer and closer to the conclusion of this whole story. Probably only a few chapters left after this one. And this one is pretty long, so bare with me. And of course, thank you all for your feedback.**

Chapter One Hundred Twelve:

"Your Hands Are Shaking"

"Tonight?" She asked.

"Yes, Bones, tonight," he let go of her wrists, seeing that she was nervous, "why wait?"

"I don't know, Booth," her voice was wary, "yes, I love you, and yes, I want to marry you, but maybe just, not tonight, okay?"

"Why not?"

Brennan wasn't entirely sure why not. She figured the fact that it was completely rash and spur of the moment was enough, but apparently he wanted a better reason.

"Because we don't have a place to go, someone to marry us, or anyone to be a witness."

"I have a friend who's a pastor not far from here. He'll do it," he told her.

"Booth, you are not Protestant. Isn't getting married outside of the Catholic church a sin or something?"

"Bones, the Catholic church wouldn't marry us anyway because you're not Catholic. And besides, does it really seem like I care what the Catholic church thinks right now?"

"I think you're being rash," she told him, bluntly.

Booth sighed and ran his hands through his hair, his heart still fluttering inside his chest as he relaxed slightly, seeing that this was, more than likely, not happening tonight.

"Alright," he sighed, trying to hide the fact that he was hurt, unaware of how clearly it was coming across, "okay. You're right. We can wait," he took her face between his hands, "I love you, alright? We don't have to rush into anything."

Brennan was the one to sigh this time as she looked at him desperately.

"You want to get married," she said, softly.

"Yeah," he laughed weakly, "but you don't, and you're right. We should wait."

Brennan bit her bottom lip, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself close, burying her face into the crook of his neck to inhale his scent. She felt his arms reluctantly wrap around her, rubbing her back softly. The more affectionate he got, the worse she felt. She did want to marry him, but she didn't know how she felt about marrying him on that particular night.

"Booth, I want to marry you," she looked up at him honestly, "I really do. You know I would not say that if I didn't mean it."

"I know," he assured her.

"I just can't help but feel like if we got married tonight, it wouldn't be as special," she admitted, "we wouldn't have a nice ceremony like Hodgins and Angela did, or a honeymoon, or any of the things that I assumed you would want."

"Bones, none of that is important," he laughed lightly, "it isn't the ceremony, or the honeymoon that makes a marriage. It's the people. You and I love each other, and I would want nothing more than to be able to call you my wife. I wouldn't care if it was untraditional. Nothing about us is traditional."

"You...wouldn't care if our marriage was unorthodox?" She asked, genuinely surprised.

"No," he promised, kissing her nose softly, "I love you."

"I love you too," she took a long pause, seeing his eyes grow curious when she just stared at him intently. She leaned up to press a soft kiss to his lips, leaning her forehead against his shoulder afterwards. "I want to marry you," she said, quietly, unsure of her own words, "and if you want to get married tonight, then so do I."

Booth was surprised by her words, placing his finger under her chin to tilt her head up so she was looking at him. Brennan could see that he was a combination of nervous, hopeful, and excited.

"You don't have to-"

"I want to," she cut him off, her eyes seeming to light up a little more, "I, really want to. I want to get married tonight. By tomorrow morning, I want to be able to call you my husband."

"Bones," he kissed her again, "I-"

"Marry me, Seeley Booth," her voice was soft, but she was smiling brightly, "marry me, and then take me back here and make love to me, as my husband, for the rest of the night."

Booth hugged her tightly, taking her by surprise. Even when he grabbed her unexpectedly and practically squeezed all of the air out of her, she loved it. Having his strong arms locked around her waist made her feel safe.

"Booth?" She asked, letting go of him after a few seconds.

"Yes, my love?"

"When we get married, I don't want you calling me Mrs. Booth, okay?"

"Alright. Small price to pay," he kissed her tenderly, "I can live with that."

"And I would like to keep my last name," she told him softly.

"I know."

"Do you mind?"

"No, baby," he smiled, stroking her hair gently, "as long as you're my wife, none of the other stuff matters, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed, with a smile, pulling him close again, a small laugh of pure bliss escaping her lips, "I love you, so much."

"I love you too," he kissed the top of her head, "I," he paused, having to laugh, seeing her smile as well, "I can't wait to marry you."

"Then let's not wait," she smiled, kissing his cheek softly, "let's go find this minister you know and get him to marry us," when he took her hand, pulling her towards the door, she stopped him, "wait, Booth, we don't have rings."

"We'll just use something we already have for now," his tone was pleading, "Bones, we'll buy real wedding rings a different time."

Brennan laughed and nodded, kissing the line of his jaw, unable to get enough of him all of the sudden.

"Okay," she nodded, taking her turn at tugging him towards the door, "come, Booth. I want to make you my husband."

* * *

"Pastor Mike?" When they came through the doors of the church, Brennan and Booth immediately made their way over to Pastor Mike, as Booth called to him frantically, "Pastor Mike? Bones and I need to ask for a huge favor."

"Ah, Seeley," the pastor was much calmer than the couple, "this isn't Rebecca."

They stopped in front of him, seeing one older woman sitting in the pews, her hands crossed in her lap as she looked at the altar.

"No," Booth had to laugh, wrapping an arm around her waist, "this is Temperance Brennan. Bones, this is Pastor Mike. I met him a few years after I got out of the army. He helped me with my gambling."

"Nice to meet you," Brennan said, with a smile.

"Nice to meet you too, Temperance," he held out his hand for her to shake, before turning his attention back to Booth, "so, what brings you two here at such an hour?"

"We need you to marry us," Booth told him, taking his partner's hand to hold it tightly.

He still couldn't believe that this was about to happen. He was about to marry Temperance Brennan, the woman who swore she would never marry anyone. After all these months, they were finally going to be husband and wife.

"Marry you?" Pastor Mike seemed taken aback, "well, this is a little sudden."

"I know it's a little unorthodox, but you said if I needed anything to come to you, and I do need something," Booth tried to reason with him, "I need you to marry us."

"Seeley, I would, but, you need a witness," he sounded apologetic, "you don't have anyone with you."

Brennan looked up at her partner, the disappointment visible in her eyes.

"I really am sorry, you two," the minister said, softly, "maybe it's for the better though. I mean, it's apparent that neither of you have put much thought into this. Maybe once you have a little time to think it over, you'll make your decision and be able to plan a real wedding."

"Alright," Booth nodded, just as disappointed as Brennan was, "maybe you're right. Maybe we should put some more thought into it."

Brennan sighed, looking up at him.

"I really want to marry you," she said softly.

"I know," Booth touched her face apologetically, "we will, just, not right now. Obviously we weren't meant to be married tonight. And that's okay. We'll wait."

She sighed again as he took her hand, and just as they were about to leave, the older woman, the only other person in the church, stood up and made her way over to the three people standing together.

"Excuse me," her voice was small, "I couldn't help but overhear your situation, and, if you still want to get married, I could be your witness."

"No, no, you don't have to do that," Booth assured her, a small smile on his face.

"I want to," the woman insisted, reaching into her bag to pull out a small Polaroid camera, "my husband just passed away last week. And I can tell that you two really love each other. I don't want to see that love denied simply because you don't have a witness to your wedding."

"A-Are you sure?" Brennan stuttered.

The woman nodded.

"Go on, Pastor Mike," she urged him, "don't keep these nice people waiting any longer."

"Um, alright then," the minister chuckled, giving the older woman a serious look before he opened up his book, "Gina, I'm sure Sam is looking down at you and smiling."

Booth shot Brennan a warning glance, not wanting her to start blathering about how there was no such thing as an afterlife, and make this woman change her mind about helping them out. Brennan looked back at him, barely noticing the look in his eyes, only focusing on him, her own eyes filled with love and adoration. Apparently she wasn't even planning on saying anything. She was too absorbed in what was about to happen.

"I love you," she whispered.

Booth kissed her softly.

"I love you too," he whispered back.

"Okay, so shall we start?" Pastor Mike asked, breaking the close feel between the two lovers, seeing them nod eagerly, "Alright, so, here we go," he cleared his throat before he started, "since it is your intention to marry, join your right hands and declare your consent. Do you, Seeley Booth, take Temperance Brennan to be your lawful wedded wife? To have and to behold from this day on, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Booth barely gave him a chance to finish before he spoke.

"Do you, Temperance Brennan, take Seeley Booth to be your lawful wedded husband? To have and to-"

"Yes, yes, I do," Brennan cut him off not even halfway through his speech, holding her partner's hand tightly, "I do, Pastor Mike."

Pastor Mike had to laugh at how frantic she was.

"Well, I can see you two are in a rush," he half joked, "so we'll just get to it. Seeley, take this ring and place it on Temperance's finger, and state your pledge to her, repeating after me: With this ring, I wed thee. I offer you my hand and my heart, for I know they will be safe with you. All that I am, I give to you, and all that I have, I share with you."

"With this ring, I wed thee. I offer you my hand and my heart, for I know they will be safe with you. All that I am, I give to you, and all that I have, I share with you," Booth repeated, the biggest smile on his face, as he placed the ring on her finger.

"Temperance, take this ring and place it on Seeley's finger, and state your pledge to him, repeating after me: With this ring, I wed thee. I offer you my hand and my heart, for I know they will be safe with you. All that I am, I give to you, and all that I have, I share with you."

"With this ring, I wed thee," she paused, attempting to place the ring on his finger with her trembling hands, "I offer you my hand and my heart, for I know they will be safe with you. All that I am, I give to you, and all that I have, I share with you."

They were so absorbed in each other, that they barely noticed Gina snapping several Polaroids of them, placing each on the top of the closest pew for them to develop. Pastor Mike spoke again.

"You have given and pledged your promises to each other, and have declared your everlasting love by exchanging the rings. Your vows may have been spoken in minutes, but your promises to each other will last until your last breath. As you have pledged yourselves to meet sorrow and happiness as one family before God, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may," he paused, noticing that they were already kissing, before he gave them the instruction, "kiss...the bride."

Gina set down her camera after she snapped the shot of their kiss, so she could clap, as the couple kissed, their first kiss as husband and wife filled with love and passion towards the other. After what could have been a few seconds or a few minutes, their lips came apart, and they simply looked at each other, having to laugh lightly at the intensity of the moment.

"I love you so much," Brennan whispered, keeping the words between them, as a single tear of pure bliss ran down her cheek.

Booth laughed and wiped the tear away.

"I love you too, Temperance," he whispered, "and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

* * *

As Booth unlocked the door of the hotel room, he could feel his partner standing impatiently behind him, rocking back and forth on her heels as she waited, her hand on his shoulder. Watching him fumble with the key card, she finally spoke.

"Are you okay, Booth?" She asked softly, "Your hands are shaking."

"I'm fine," he assured her, finally getting the door open, holding it open with his foot as he shoved the card back into his pocket, "I'm just, really happy."

Brennan smiled, only to let out a surprised yelp when he picked her up without any warning and carried her inside. She would never understand him. They had this whole untraditional wedding, and now he decided he wanted to be traditional.

"You are insane," she scolded him, "put me down. You're the only man who can manage to make his wife angry on their wedding night."

"Well you shouldn't be mad," he laughed, setting her back on the ground once he closed the door behind them, "it's tradition."

"So now, all of the sudden, tradition is important?" She asked.

Without answering, Booth simply kissed her again, this kiss not as tender as the ones before. This one was more passionate and sloppy, as her fingers moved to thread into his hair and his hands moved to cup her neck gently. When she felt one of his hands slide from her neck to search for the zipper on her dress, she disconnected their lips.

"Wait," she whispered, pulling away a little and pushing his hand gently away from her zipper, "let me go change."

He nodded and let go of her, allowing her to take her bag into the bathroom in order to change into the lingerie she'd been talking about all week. He figured he'd strip down a little to make things easier for her as well, unfastening his dress pants and removing them, as he undressed. When he got himself down to only the open dress shirt and his boxer shorts, he couldn't help but start to feel anxious. He was about to make love to his wife. _His_ _wife_. He and Brennan were married now, and he was still having a hard time processing it. It all happened so fast. One minute they were just Brennan and Booth, and the next, they were husband and wife.

He had almost forgotten about the rose petals they had purchased on the ride home, even though he wasn't sure how, since Brennan practically strangled him when he pulled over, into the parking lot of the florist, and informed her that she would have to wait another twenty minutes or so before they got back to the hotel. It would be worth it though. Even though the idea of 'rose petals on the bed' was cliche, he knew she would like them.

After he tossed the petals onto the sheets, making sure they were spread out, but not looking like he just carelessly threw them, he searched through her bag for the vanilla scented candle she packed, since, with her being pregnant, she liked to have candles to get rid of anything that smelled bad to her. He got his lighter out of his own bag and set the candle on the night stand once it was lit, making sure he didn't burn himself, since his hands were trembling. Only a few seconds after he shut the light, making it so the room was only lit by the candle and the moonlight coming in through the blinds, he heard a voice behind him.

"Booth?"

He turned around, looking his wife up and down as she stood in the doorway of the bathroom, in only her black, lacy nightgown, which made the leopard print lingerie underneath just barely visible.

"Wow," he breathed, as she smiled at his reaction, turning off the light in the bathroom and making her way over to her husband, "you look," he paused, unable to find an appropriate word, "just, wow."

"Thank you," she laughed awkwardly, placing her hands gently on his exposed chest, running them slowly down to his torso.

When she felt him tense, she looked up at him, noticing, in the dim light, that he was blushing. It was rare to see him blush, but when it happened, she found it endearing. Their eyes locked in an intense gaze as she stopped at the top of his boxers.

"Hi," she whispered awkwardly.

"Hi," he whispered back, laughing the same way she did earlier.

"You're blushing," she told him, reaching up to touch his cheek gently.

"You're touching me," her blunt observation only caused him to blush harder, "and when you're in that tiny nightgown and leopard print lingerie, just touching my chest is enough."

"Well don't be self conscious," she laughed softly, "I like it when you blush."

"I like making you blush too," he told her, a small smile on his face, "I like the way you blush when I run my tongue over your sweet spot."

Brennan's cheeks were the ones to turn red this time.

"You always seem to blush more when I'm on top," she told him, "does being out of control make you nervous?"

"A little," he admitted, tucking her hair behind her ear for her, "but I don't mind."

Brennan smiled and cupped his cheek gently, sliding her hand down the side of his jaw after only a few seconds. When she leaned in to kiss his collarbone softly, she felt the cords in his neck tense up, causing her to smile against his skin as her small pecks evolved into tender, open-mouthed kisses, trailing up and down his neck.

"Bones," he sighed in pleasure, his hand moving to cup the back of her head softly, "my wife. My beautiful wife."

Brennan stopped and looked up at him, waiting for his eyes to open again before she whispered back.

"My perfect husband," she said softly.

And, with that, Booth kissed her lips again and picked her up to lay her on the mattress, not bothering to pull the blankets, which were pushed to the foot of the bed, over them quite yet. Their lips parted, tongues slid wetly against one another's, hands caressed every bit of bare skin they could find at the moment. Brennan sighed when his lips left hers, kissing her jawbone softly before moving to her neck, causing her to let out a soft, kitten-like sound as she tilted her head up in pleasure, her curls tangling against the pillow.

"Booth," she moaned her husband's name softly, running her fingers over his back, which still remained covered by the fabric of the unbuttoned dress shirt.

Addressing that problem, she tugged the shirt off of his shoulders, taking a few minutes to work the fabric off of his arms, the task becoming more difficult when he distracted her with his mouth on her neck and collarbone. She placed one hand on the back of his head to hold his face close to her skin, only to be disappointed when he was still able to pull away and sit up, causing her to whimper and reach for him again.

"Sh, sh," he hushed her gently, his hands moving carefully to her waist, the lace of her nightgown rubbing against his palm as he slid the fabric up.

Taking his silent signal, she held her arms up over her head and allowed him to slide the nightgown off slowly, noticing how he admired each piece of skin as if was revealed. Brennan felt goose bumps cover her skin when his hands caressed the soft skin of her arms before moving to her waist, content with just touching her at the moment. She reached up to touch his face again, guiding his eyes to hers.

"Please," she whispered, "make love to me."

"Shh," he hushed her again, pressing a finger to her lips, "we'll get to that."

Brennan shifted, able to feel rose petals sticking to the back of her legs as she waited for him to kiss her again. Growing tired of waiting, she leaned up and pressed her lips back to his, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him back down with her. They only kissed for a few seconds before Booth's lips abandon hers again, only to leave slow, tender kisses down her body, until he reached her stomach. He kissed the small bulge softly.

"Hey, little guy," he whispered to the baby, as Brennan arched her back in pleasure when he pressed another soft kiss to her stomach, "mama's about to get a little noisy, okay? I'm sorry about that."

Brennan moaned softly, the redness returning to her cheeks, as her hands slid down his shoulder blades, tugging him back up to her by the biceps, smiling when she saw the look of intensity in his dark eyes.

"I love you," she whispered, as he leaned down to nuzzle her neck softly, causing her to moan again, "I...I love you."

"I know," he whispered, running his tongue gently over her sweets spot, causing her to shiver involuntarily, "I love you too."

Brennan pushed his face gently away from her neck so she could push on his chest gently. Getting her signal, he turned over onto his back, bringing her with him so she was straddling his waist. She immediately leaned down to kiss his neck, moving lower to his chest, hearing him sigh a few times as she kissed over his skin. When her lips moved south, taking her turn at kissing his stomach, she felt his hand move to her back, searching for the clip on her leopard print bra, his own back arching slightly in pleasure. Seeing that his mind was too lust clouded to find the clip, she took his hand and placed it there, moving back up so they were face to face, a small smile on her lips as she brushed a hand through his hair.

"My husband," she repeated the words from before softly.

"My wife," he whispered back, seeing her pupils dilate when the clip gave way against her back, and he slid one strap off of her shoulder.

Brennan's heart was pounding now, and, deciding they had enough foreplay, she spoke again.

"Booth?" She whispered, knowing, by the way he was looking at her, that he was listening, even when he leaned up to kiss her shoulder softly, "I...want you to be on top."

Booth was a little surprised, since she usually complained that she wanted to be on top and that he never let her. Now, on the night he was willing to let her have what she wanted, she decided she didn't want to be anymore.

"Why?" He asked softly, tucking her hair back behind her ear.

"Because..." she paused, feeling somewhat uncomfortable, unsure if what she was about to say was going to make her seem like some kind of sappy, hopeless romantic, "it makes me feel safe."

Smiling brightly, Booth turned her gently back onto her back, taking his place back over her, his weight resting on his forearms as he brushed his fingers through her hair.

"I'm glad I make you feel safe," he whispered.

"You do," Brennan promised, "I know you'd never hurt me, physically, or mentally."

Booth leaned down to kiss her softly.

"Let's try to break those laws of physics now, okay?" His laugh was soft, sounding somewhat nervous, "We've tried before, but maybe tonight is the night it'll actually happen. That we'll actually break the laws of physics."

"It isn't likely," Brennan's laugh was soft, as she ran her hands over his back, "but, I would like to try."

* * *

After their first round of lovemaking, Booth turned over onto his back, both of them panting as they looked at the ceiling.

"Wow," Brennan breathed, still taken back by the intensity of their lovemaking, turning her head slightly to look at him, "_that_ was amazing."

She heard her husband chuckle, turning his head to look at her as well.

"You think we did it?" He asked, breathing just as hard as she was.

"I don't know," Brennan's voice was suggestive, "maybe we should try again."

Booth laughed and tugged her gently on top of him, kissing her once again, even though they could still barely breathe from round one. And for the rest of the night, they did try, only taking a few short minutes to breathe before they started over again. And when Booth's fingers dug into her hips, and her nails scratched down his damp back, or when he was kissing her neck and her eyes were rolling into the back of her head in pleasure, she could swear, they came close. Maybe they didn't actually break the laws of physics, but it was as close as they were going to come. And that was enough for her.


	113. Do You Hear The Ocean, Bones?

**A/N: Everyone happy they finally said 'I Do'? xD So, this is another long chapter (sorry to anyone with a short attention span) but these last few chapters have been coming easily to me, so they've been turning out longer than most. This one is pretty fluffy, but there are a few, I guess you could call them 'sad', moments. Nothing too dramatic though, so don't worry. =]**

Chapter One Hundred Thirteen:

"Do You Hear The Ocean, Bones?"

Sunlight was what eventually woke Brennan up, since she was unable to sleep with the sun blaring onto her closed eyelids. Her husband was still holding her close, his arms locked around her waist, his chest pressed against her back, and his head on her shoulder. Normally, they cuddled after sex, and maybe woke up kind of still holding each other, but Brennan wasn't sure if she had ever woken up with him holding her that close before. She yawned, attempting to move closer, but seeing that it wasn't possible. When he noticed she was awake, his head turned, his nose pressing against her cheek for only a few seconds before he rested his chin against her shoulder, seeing her turn her own head to look at him the best she could.

"Good morning," she whispered, reaching behind her to touch his face.

"Very good morning," he agreed, "Mrs. Booth."

Brennan couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"What did I say about that?"

"Relax, Bones, I just had to say it once," he chuckled lightly, "this is all still very new for us. I'm just, making sure it's still real."

"It is," she promised, closing her eyes again as she placed her hand over his, admiring the rings on their left fingers. Even though they weren't really their wedding rings, she still liked the way it looked. "How are we going to explain this to our friends?"

Booth admired the rings on their fingers as well, her question causing him to laugh lightly.

"I haven't quite figured that one out yet," he admitted, "but I don't want to think about that right now. We don't have to go back to work until tomorrow. I just want to spend the day happy, and with my wife. We need at least one day before we get to the hard stuff."

Brennan sighed softly, knowing what was included in 'the hard stuff'.

"We're going to have to tell the FBI, aren't we?" She asked.

"We can't really avoid it any longer," he lowered his voice, keeping his tone soft and kissing her shoulder softly after he spoke, "we're legally married. You're pregnant. We're not going to be able to keep it a secret anymore. Cullen is going to catch on, and I think he'll be more lenient if we tell him than if he finds out on his own."

"I guess," Brennan agreed half-heartedly, "I just have a feeling he will terminate our partnership. And I don't want to lose you. In any way. Even though you might argue that our intimate relationship is more important than our work relationship, you're still my partner, and I enjoy working with you. There are not many other people I work well with."

"Hey, we're the center, alright?" He kissed her shoulder again, "Nothing will happen to our partnership. They split us up, they're losing their most successful team."

"But FBI rules-"

"They'll make an exception," he promised, cutting her off before she could finish.

Brennan ran her fingers over his forearms, her eyes still closed as she laid with him.

"You don't want to talk about it anymore," she observed.

"Like I said, we'll get to the hard stuff tomorrow."

Brennan turned herself around in his arms so she could look at his face for the first time that morning. _Her husband_. Even though she couldn't shake that thought, it still didn't feel any different. She was still Brennan, and he was still Booth, so she had to wonder why she was so afraid of marrying him for all these months. Nothing was going to change.

Booth smiled at her and she smiled back. He was so beautiful, with his genuine white smile, his dark brown eyes, his prominent features, the sun hitting his face making him look almost angelic. And he was her husband.

"What?" He asked, the way she was staring at him making him slightly uncomfortable.

"Nothing," she promised, "you're just..." she paused, "you're gorgeous, Booth."

Booth chuckled and pecked her lips softly.

"I'm so lucky," he told her, smoothing down her hair, which was tangled and messy from the night before, "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

Brennan had to laugh.

"Okay, Booth," she brushed off the comment, since she wasn't used to receiving compliments of that magnitude, "what ever you say."

"I'm serious," he kissed her forehead, "you're so beautiful, and you have such a good heart, and I just, don't know what I ever did to deserve you."

"Stop," she laughed lightly.

"You, Bones, need to learn how to accept a compliment," he told her.

"Well, I don't know how you expect me to respond to that," she told him, "what am I supposed to say? 'Thank you'?"

Just as he was about to respond, there was a knock on the door, causing them to both groan in irritation as they simply looked at each other.

"God, what do these people not understand about 'do not disturb'?" He groaned.

"Booth? Doctor Brennan?" They heard the voice of Cam from outside the door.

"Just stay quiet and she'll go away," Booth told his wife, pressing a finger to her lips.

The knocking stopped for a few seconds, only to resume again.

"The sign says 'do not disturb'," it was Sweets' voice speaking now, "they're probably sleeping."

She ignored him, simply speaking to them through the door, just incase they were actually awake and just ignoring her, which, ironically, was the case.

"Booth? Brennan? Just wanted to tell you guys Sweets and I are going to get breakfast, incase you want to join," she paused, waiting a few seconds incase they wanted to respond, "if you decide you want to, we'll be at the diner down the block."

Once he could hear the voices of their co-workers moving away from their room, Booth kissed his wife, feeling her arms circle his waist, her fingers stroking his back gently. They stopped when she felt something, and she gently tugged at the object on his skin, laughing as she held it up to show it to him.

"You had a rose petal stuck to your back," she laughed.

He chuckled as well, but her laughter only seemed to grow. He arched an eyebrow quizzically unsure of what she was finding so funny.

"You think that's funny?" He asked playfully.

"No," Brennan managed between laughs, "that's not what I'm laughing at," she laughed again, feeling it finally start to fade, "I'm just happy. I don't know why I'm laughing, which is actually very strange."

"It's not strange that you're happy," he laughed lightly as well, "I'm happy too."

Brennan smiled and nuzzled the crook of his neck softly.

"What would you like to do today?" She asked, looking back up at him, "and before you say it, 'you' is not an acceptable response."

"Baby, you know how I feel about making love to you, but I think I'm all sexed out for a while," he told her honestly, "last night was," he paused, searching for the word, "it was incredible. But we also went like, six hundred rounds, and I'm not sure if I'm up for more quite yet."

"Six hundred is not a reasonable estimate," she told him, with a small smile, "but it's okay. I'm not much up for sex at the moment either."

"Good," he smiled charmingly, "then how about we take a shower, and then we go hit a beach somewhere in Virginia for the day?"

"The beach?" Brennan asked, "In the middle of September?"

"Yeah, I mean, there'll probably only be a few people there, so we can get some privacy, and it's not so cold yet that you _can't_ go to the beach, so why not?"

Brennan simply smiled, unable to think of a reason that they shouldn't go.

"Okay," she agreed with a small smile, "if you want to go to the beach, then we will."

"Bones, it's not just about what I want," he touched her cheek gently, smiling back, "you're a part of this too. What do _you_ want?"

"I want what you want," she assured him.

"Getting soft, I see," he commented, poking her side playfully.

Brennan rolled her eyes.

"Just get out of bed so we can shower," she laughed, pushing gently on his shoulder.

* * *

As Brennan drove, Booth sat in the passenger's seat, observing the passing scenery as the wind blowing through the open window ruffled through their hair. As much as he hated driving when he was behind the wheel, due to people cutting him off and traffic jams, he found that being in the car could actually be relaxing, with the car bumping along the road and the trees flying by, the sound of wind rushing through the window. Now he knew why babies liked it so much.

"Why are you letting me drive?" Brennan finally asked the question that had been on her mind for the past hour and some odd minutes in the car, "I mean, I know I'm an excellent driver, but you usually don't want me driving. Especially your SUV."

"Because you like driving," he said simply.

"You always knew that, yet today you decide to give me what I want," she observed, "why? Why are you being so nice to me today?"

"Because I love you," he said, as if that were obvious, "because you're my wife, and you're carrying my child," he smiled at her, seeing her smile back when she saw it out of the corner of her eyes, "and I hate to break it to you, lamb chop, but you're being damn nice to me today too. All that 'I want what you want'? That is not common for you."

"Lamb chop is even worse than baby," she said simply, "and I just want today to be perfect. I don't want to argue or bicker, or anything else. Today should simply be us loving each other. It's our first day as husband and wife, and I want to do it right."

"Couldn't have put it better myself, Temperance," he took the hand that wasn't on the steering wheel to hold it in his.

"Bones," she corrected him.

"How about Impossible To Please?" His voice was sarcastic.

"I will be pleased with Bones. I'd hardly call that impossible," she pulled onto the side of the road when she found the little, barely noticeable, beach they were looking for, putting the SUV in park and looking over at him, "we're here."

"I can see that," he chuckled, wasting no time before hopping out of the car as Brennan popped the trunk, allowing him to get their things out of the back.

They'd stopped at the nearest superstore to grab a few things on the way. They bought a couple of blankets, some strawberries, a bottle of sparkling water, since Brennan couldn't drink wine, a few wine glasses, and some plain cereal for Brennan, since that was pretty much all she could eat lately without vomiting, making sure they were fully prepared to spend the day at the beach.

"Come on, Bones, help my carry some of this stuff," he chuckled, handing her the bag and taking the blankets out of the trunk before shutting it again, as they walked the short distance to the sand.

They made sure to get close to the ocean, but not so close that the water would touch them when the tide rose, and once they felt they were at the perfect distance, they laid down one blanket to sit on and used the other to wrap around their shoulders. Brennan inhaled the scent of the air as she sat cuddled up with her husband under the warm blanket, able to taste the salt from the ocean and feel a slight spray when the waves would crash up onto shore.

"Feel that?" Booth asked, when the ocean sprayed them again.

Brennan nodded as a strong gust of wind came in, misplacing her hair.

"We can move further back if you're not comfortable here," he told her.

"No, I like it," she assured him, "I like being able to taste the sea water."

Booth pulled her closer so her head could rest against his shoulder.

"It smells good, doesn't it?" He asked.

Brennan nodded.

"I've always liked this smell," she told him, seeing something popping out of the sand from a short distance away, "be right back."

She shrugged the blanket off of her shoulders and stood up, kneeling in the sand and digging up a medium sized pink object, holding it behind her back when she went to meet up with him again. When she sat back down, before she could get back under the blanket, she handed the sea shell to her partner.

"This is a nice one," he commented, as she situated herself back under the blanket, with her head resting back against his shoulder.

She nodded in agreement.

"When I was a kid, my mother and father used to bring Russ and I to the beach every summer," she sighed lightly at the memories, her voice soft as she reminisced, "my father used to tell us that you could hear the ocean if you held a sea shell up to your ear," she laughed, "which is, of course, completely irrational."

Booth did as she said and listened into the shell.

"_I_ hear the ocean," he told her.

"That is simply the blood rushing through your head," she told him, having to laugh when he held it up to her ear for her.

"Of course it's not, it's the ocean," his smile was bright, "do you hear it? Do you hear the ocean, Bones?"

Brennan normally wouldn't indulge in such a childish myth, but, for a minute, when her husband held the shell up to her ear, asking if she could hear the ocean, she wanted to believe that she could. She wanted to believe that it was the ocean, and not just blood rushing through her head. She wanted to not have to be logical for once.

"I hear blood rushing through my head," her laugh was soft, "not the ocean."

"Well then we're hearing two completely different things," he shrugged, sneaking the shell into her purse when she stared out at the waves crashing against the beach.

"Sometimes I wish I could go back," she told him honestly, never taking her eyes off of the waves as they crashed up the shore, then back down, in a constant cycle, "to when I was that innocent child on the beach, who could hear the ocean in a seashell. Back to when my father was Matthew Brennan the science teacher, and not Max Keenan the career criminal," she sighed again when she felt his arm tighten around her shoulder, "things were so much easier then."

"I know," he whispered, kissing her temple softly, "I understand."

Brennan finally looked up at him.

"Do you ever wish you could go back?" She asked.

"Nah," Booth shook his head, a small smile on his face, seeing her eyebrows furrow, indicating that he just made her feel like she was strange for wishing that, "but you and I didn't have the same type of childhood," he tried to explain, "I don't want to go back, but it's understandable why you do."

"I'm sorry," Brennan apologized, knowing that he hated talking about his childhood.

"Don't apologize," he laughed softly, "I'm a big boy. I can handle it."

"I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you to talk about it," she said.

"You're not," he promised, pressing a soft kiss to her hair, smelling the strong scent of lavender and jasmine when he did, "it's really okay, Bones. I don't mind talking about it with you. Sure, it's not my favorite subject, but I know you understand."

"I do, and, in a way, maybe it was better for you that your childhood was flawed," she tried, "Robert Wilson told me that I may not have turned out the way I did if I had a perfect childhood. Maybe, the same goes for you. Maybe having an abusive childhood made you want to do good for people instead of bad."

"Or maybe it just made me violent," he pointed out.

"You've never killed anyone you didn't have to, Booth," she whispered, cupping his cheek gently and drawing his eyes to hers, "many people who experienced the things you did in childhood grew up to be child or spouse abusers themselves. You are far from violent. You're the most gentle lover I've ever had, if that makes you feel any better."

Booth shrugged.

"I guess," he agreed, weakly.

"It's normal the way you feel," she promised, leaning up to press a small, gentle kiss against her husband's lips, "okay? It's normal for you to feel like your childhood flawed you."

She felt like, for that moment, their roles were reversed. Usually he was the one telling her that her feelings were normal, since he was the feeling expert after all, but now she realized that reassuring him was almost gratifying in a way. Making him feel better made her feel better, and that wasn't just one of those things she was telling herself to avoid a bickering on their first day as a married couple. She actually felt that way.

"Okay," Booth kissed her head again, pulling her closer as he let out a soft sigh against her hair, taking his turn at watching the waves now, "normal."

* * *

For reasons she was unsure of, when it started to get late, Brennan began to feel a sense of sorrow wash over her. Booth would tell her it was just the pregnancy hormones, but she knew it was something more. She thought maybe it was because this was their last day of everything being okay. Tomorrow they would have to go back to work, and soon after that, tell the FBI about their relationship, which would more than likely end their partnership, even though Booth had tried to assure her that they would make an exception. Sensing that something was wrong, Booth gently nudged her with his elbow.

"What's on your mind, Bones?" He asked softly.

Brennan sighed and pulled her knees to her chest.

"I wish we could stay here," she confessed.

"On the beach?" Booth asked, misinterpreting her words, "Baby, we can stay as long as you want. The sun is just starting to set now. We have time."

"That's not what I mean," she shook her head, "I mean 'here' as in, this place, where everything is good, and we don't have to pretend for the FBI, or explain every detail of our relationship to Angela, or make sure that Cam doesn't think that our relationship is compromising my work. This place is better, where we can just be Booth and Brennan. No audience, no one to deceive, just you and I."

"I know," he agreed, lowering his voice to match her tone, "this place is better, but it's temporary."

"Why?" She asked quietly, her eyes filling up with tears on their own accord, but she made sure not to let any escape.

"Because this isn't how our lives really work," he tried to explain as gently as possible, "we have a life in Washington D.C., with jobs, and responsibilities. We got away from all of that for a day, but this is like vacation. You don't want to go back, but you have to."

"So it's never going to be like this again?" She asked softly, "When we go back to D.C. all of this is just going to disappear? We'll just go back to arguing and having make-up sex?"

Booth brushed a bit of sand out of her hair that had made it's way in there when they decided to neck like a couple of teenagers, seeing her half-smile gratefully in response.

"We love each other, that's all that matters," he tried, "and our marriage is going to work."

"That's not what I asked," she mumbled.

"Bones, I don't know how things are going to be when we get back to D.C.," he told her, honestly, "and I think you're focusing too much on the negatives. If all we did was argue and then have make-up sex, you wouldn't have asked me to marry you, and I wouldn't have _agreed_ to marry you. If that was all we did, we'd be broken up by now."

Brennan shrugged, sighing when she saw that the sun was already almost all the way gone, the dim yellow light shimmering beautifully on the ocean, as if it was taunting her.

"Can you just...kiss me? Until it gets dark?" She asked.

Booth laughed lightly and brought her lips back to his, her mouth still tasting like the strawberries they shared earlier. He continued to kiss her until the sun was gone, and their 'perfect day' came winding down to an end.

"Come on," he reluctantly pulled away when he realized it was dark, "we'll grab some dinner and then head home, okay?"

"Okay," Brennan laughed lightly, "but, can you drive this time? I'm exhausted."

Booth had to laugh as she dropped the keys into his hand, helping him carry their things back to the car and getting into the passenger's seat. Only about ten minutes into the ride she fell asleep, her head resting against the half open window as the wind blew cooly against her skin.

* * *

"Come on, Bones, we're home," Brennan awoke to the sound of her partner's soft voice in her ear.

"We didn't stop for dinner," she observed, sleepily, as he helped her out of the car and into the apartment building, "I'm not hungry, but you probably are."

"I'll warm something up. You're exhausted, you need your sleep."

Brennan held onto his arm as they got into the elevator.

"You'll come to bed after you eat?" She asked.

Booth laughed and kissed her cheek softly.

"I will, I promise," he assured her.


	114. I Promise, Everything Will Work Out

**A/N: For some reason, the words have just been flowing out of my lately. I guess I'm on another writing kick. xD Anyway, I'm glad you guys liked the last chapter, because it was one of my favorites to write. This chapter, some of you guys might be a little upset with me, so apologizing in advanced. I tried to be nice though and throw a little fluff in to make you a little less upset with me then you would be.**

Chapter One Hundred Fourteen:

"I Promise, Everything Will Work Out"

"Stop," Brennan mumbled in her sleep, when she felt her ring being slipped off of her finger, causing her to grasp for it, knowing it was only Booth when his left hand moved to grab her arm to stop it from moving, and she felt the cold metal of his own ring against her skin, "Booth? What are you doing?"

He didn't answer, and, within a few seconds, she felt the cool metal back on her left finger. But it didn't feel the same as the ring she just grabbed out of her jewelry box so they had something to exchange at the ceremony. Opening her eyes, she looked down to find a brand new, sparkling gold band around her finger. She looked up at her husband.

"You like it?" He asked, a small smile on his face.

Brennan twisted her hand around to admire it.

"It's beautiful," she told him, honestly, "when did you get this?"

"Last night," he told her, "while you were sleeping. I went after I ate. And, honestly, I'm glad you slept through the night, because it took forever."

Brennan hadn't even noticed it was morning until he said that.

"Do you have one?" She asked, when she realized he was still wearing the old one.

Booth opened his palm to show her his own, dropping it into her hand.

"I thought maybe you would want to do the honors," he smiled, as she took his left hand and slid the ring onto his finger, "wow," he laughed lightly, "you don't know how long I've waited to see us wearing matching wedding bands."

Brennan kissed his hand gently.

"I made you wait for a very long time," her voice was soft and sleepy, "I'm sorry."

"It was worth it," he assured her, "this," he took her left hand in his, lacing their fingers together, "was worth all of it."

She smiled, glancing over at the clock.

"We have to go to work," she told him, letting go of his hand and sitting up straight.

"Yeah," he agreed, not necessarily wanting to part ways to go to work quite yet, but knowing it was inevitable, "but we have time to shower together first, right?"

Brennan looked at the clock again, knowing that it would probably be pushing it, but really not wanting to say no at the moment.

"We'll make time," she laughed, kissing his forehead softly before climbing out of bed and making her way into the bathroom, with her husband following not too far behind.

* * *

Brennan was trying to put together the limbo case she was working on as slowly as possible, since she told Booth that she would meet him over at the FBI as soon as she was done with this one. She was taking her sweet time, because, on this particular day, she did not want to go over to the FBI, since she knew why she was going. They were telling Cullen. Booth had sprung it on her in the shower, and she nearly choked on the water running over her when he said the words. This was their first day back at work, their second day of being married, and he already wanted to tell the deputy director of the FBI that they had been breaking his rules.

"It'll go so much smoother if we tell him early on," had been his defense that morning.

But Brennan didn't agree. It didn't matter that it was early into the marriage. When they told the deputy director of the FBI that they had been sleeping together, breaking FBI rules for seven and a half months, and were now married, his head would explode. Booth didn't seem to be as worried about it as she was. He honestly believed Cullen would make an exception. He always did like Booth better than most of the field agents, and he and Brennan were their best team.

"Doctor Brennan," Cam's voice startled her so badly that she almost dropped the ulna she was holding, "woah, sorry. Didn't mean to sneak up on you."

"Perfectly okay," Brennan assured her, placing the bone where it needed to be before turning to face her boss. When she set it down, her stomach dropped, because only then did she realize that she was finished. "What do you need?"

"Nothing," Cam assured her, "I just was going to tell you that you can take the rest of the day if you want to. I mean, it's only you and I here, since Hodgins and Angela are soaking up the sun in Aruba and Zack's still in Michigan. There's nothing that really needs to be done, so there's no point in staying if you don't want to."

"Okay," Brennan agreed, her voice indicating her nerves, "cause of death here was head trauma, as if the head was slammed against something. But it wasn't enough impact to indicate that it was forced, so it was probably a car accident, or something along those lines. There's nothing more that I can do, since I don't have Angela here to sketch the face, so do you mind if I just leave this one out until she gets back?"

"Sure," Cam agreed, turning to leave before she decided she had to ask, turning back around to look at her co-worker, "are you okay? You seem a little, tightly wound today."

"I'm fine," Brennan assured her, pulling off the latex gloves and tossing them into the little trash can, "I'm just, a little nervous."

"How come?" Cam asked.

Brennan tugged her hair out of the elastic it was being held up in.

"It's nothing," she assured her boss, not feeling up to explaining, "I have to go meet Booth over at the FBI for something," she quickly made her way out the door, leaving Cam standing there with a look of confusion on her face, "thank you for giving me the rest of the day off."

"Not...a problem," Cam didn't know why she was still surprised when Brennan acted sketchy about things like this.

But as her employee passed her, making her way back to her office to grab her things, she noticed something different. There was a little glimmer of light that hit her left hand, causing her wedding ring to nearly sparkle, bringing Cam's attention to it.

"Oh, my, God," she murmured to herself, "Angela is never going to believe this."

* * *

"You ready, Bones?"

"No."

Booth had to laugh as he took his partner's hand, seeing no use in hiding it from the rest of the agents anymore, since they were on their way Cullen's office to confess anyway.

"What are you so nervous about? It's Cullen. What's the worst he can do?"

"Sever our partnership," she reminded him, her eyes nervous looking when she looked up at him, "fire you. Stop working in cooperation with the Jeffersonian."

"All because we're sleeping together?" He squeezed her hand reassuringly, "I know you may think us sleeping together is a big deal, but it's not. It's a big deal to us, but not to the rest of the world."

"Or because we've been sleeping together for seven and a half months, are married, and are expecting a child in _six_ months," her own words caused her panic to grow, "oh, God, Booth, who are we trying to kid? You're going to lose your job!"

"I'm not going to lose my job," he had to laugh again, even though she was not finding this funny in any way , "worst case scenario, and I mean absolute _worst_ case, we won't be allowed to work together anymore," he saw her frown, "and that's okay. Sure, it'll be sad, and we'll miss being partners, but we're husband and wife. Isn't that just a little bit better?"

"I guess," she said, softly.

"Aw, come on, Bones, you're killing my self esteem over here," he chuckled, nudging her playfully with his elbow, "amazing sex or standing over dead bodies? Which do you prefer?"

"I believe I prefer the sex," she finally cracked a smile, "and I can't help but feel that maybe the sex will be even better if we don't see each other for the whole day before it."

"That's the spirit," he smiled, but saw that her own faded when they reached Cullen's office, "don't worry, Bones. I promise, everything will work out."

When he went to open the door, Brennan grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Wait, Booth," her voice was desperate, "can we wait? A few days?"

Booth kissed her cheek softly.

"No, baby," he said gently, "this has to be done."

Brennan shook her head.

"I feel sick," she told him, "I'm going to be sick."

"Is that your defense mechanism now?" He laughed, "You're not going to vomit, Bones. You're fine. You're just nervous."

"Booth," she pled, tightening her grip on his arm, "please. I can't do this today."

"Why the hell not? Waiting won't make it any easier."

Brennan was so close to lying and telling him that she was having abdominal pain, but she knew that would upset him more than she wanted to, and he would be trying to rush her to the emergency room to make sure the baby was okay. She knew that if she didn't want to fabricate some abdominal pain, that there was no other way she was getting out of this.

"I...don't know," she said quietly, "I just, don't want to get you in any kind of trouble."

"I can handle it, Bones," he assured her, tugging his arm out of her grip and knocking on the door to his boss' office.

Brennan pulled nervously on her blouse, feeling as if she could have passed out at any given moment. If Booth lost his job, she would never be able to make it up to him. And if this whole secret relationship caused Cullen to not want to work with the Jeffersonian anymore, Cam would probably explode as well.

"Come in," the voice of Cullen came in from the other side of the door, as he looked up from a case file from a different field agent when the door opened, and the partners entered his office, "Booth, Doctor Brennan," he greeted them, "don't you two have work to be doing?"

"No, we're both free right now," Booth told him, "but we, uh, kind of have something we want to discuss with you, if you're not too busy."

"Nope, not too busy," he closed the case file, curious as to what was going on now, "sit," he gestured towards the empty chairs in his office, and Brennan and Booth sat simultaneously, "what is there to discuss? Something about a case?"

"No," Booth spoke, and that day, Brennan was glad that he was taking over the conversation, since she wasn't sure if she would have been able to manage words at the moment, due to her anxiety about what they were doing, "not about a case."

Cullen's eyebrow arched as he looked at his employee.

"This better be important, Booth, because right now I can't see where this is going at all, and I'm having a hard time imagining it is going to be about anything significant."

"No, no, it's significant, honestly," Booth promised, getting that tense feeling back that he usually felt around Cullen, "it's about, Bones. And me."

Cullen only looked at him, with those eyes that made him feel like he was about to be thrown into a pack of wolves.

"You see, Bones and I," he paused, nearly choking on his words when his boss just continued to stare him down, his face expressionless, "a while ago, when I took a few of my vacation days, Bones and I were spending a lot of time together. And, um, in that time, things kind of...escalated," he paused again, seeing Cullen's eyes flicker with slight interest now, "we kind of, um, took things to the next level, so to speak. And it was pretty casual then. We liked being together, but it was nothing too serious. It was kind of like, teenager love."

When he took a long pause, Cullen spoke.

"I'm assuming there's more to this story."

"Yeah, there is, well, things kind of grew a little more, and it went from a kind of 'puppy love' deal to the real thing. We moved in together a few months ago, and," he paused again, feeling as if his tie was now strangling him, "when we went to Maryland for Hodgins and Angela's wedding, we kind of, got married."

There was a long, drawn out silence, the tension in the room almost unbearable. Booth swallowed hard, reaching up to situate his tie, attempting to move it just enough to allow him to breathe again, only to realize that it wasn't the tie cutting off his air supply.

"You're married?" Cullen finally asked, his tone low yet sharp.

"Yes, sir," Booth told him, "we are."

"I mean," he paused, looking at the ground, "it would be one thing if you slept together a few times, but you're married?" The three of them exchanged uncomfortable glances, "How long has all of this been going on?"

"Almost eight months," Booth answered quietly.

Cullen let out a long breath.

"Eight months?" He asked, "Booth, you do understand what this means. It means this has been eight months of you blatantly breaking FBI rules, sneaking around with your partner, and making me look like an idiot for not noticing. Is that how you think of me, Agent Booth? Did you think you'd be able to get away with this because I'm too stupid to notice?"

"No, sir, of course not," Booth swore, "that's why we came to tell you now. I knew you were going to catch on sooner or later, and I'd rather you heard it from us than find out on your own."

"So now you decide to have courtesy?" He asked, "You sneak around for eight months, but decide that _now_ it's time to make sure you tell me before I find out on my own."

"He didn't mean any disrespect to you," Brennan finally spoke, "we're jus-"

"No, I do not want to hear anything from you right now," Cullen cut her off, looking back to Booth, "you see? This is what happens when the FBI works with squints. Things get complicated. Maybe I'd expect something like this from her. But from you, Booth? You're one of the most highly respected agents I have! Is this what she did to you?"

"It was my idea," Booth lied, taking the heat, since, he and Brennan both knew that keeping their relationship a secret was initially her idea, "she didn't want to hide it. I told her it would be better if we did. So if you're going to be angry at anyone, be angry at me."

"Please don't listen to him," Brennan said quickly, "he is just trying to keep me out of trouble. It was my idea."

"I don't _care_ who's idea it was!" The harshness of his tone caused them both to jump, "that isn't important. The fact is, you both lied, and you both broke FBI rules," he paused, but only shortly, not allowing either of them to start speaking again, "I've got news for you, Booth. You aren't entitled to anything just because you're successful. The same rules apply to you that apply to everyone else here. There's no way, not a chance in hell, that you are ever working with your squint again after this."

Brennan bit the inside of her cheek when she heard the words she was dreading hearing, almost hard enough to draw blood.

"Sir-"

"No, I do not want to hear another word from you right now," Cullen cut Booth off sharply, "you two can finish the Wilson case, but once the case is closed, you're done."

"Deputy Director Cullen, I just want to voice that I will not work with anyone else," Brennan threw out there boldly, "Booth is the only agent that I will work with."

"Then you can stay in the lab with the rest of the squints," he didn't seem to budge when she made the subtle threat, "now, please, I do not have the strength to deal with either of you right now. Go back to work."

They both stood up and left Cullen's office without another word, both of them feeling a painful ache in the center of their chests, but neither of them saying anything about it.

* * *

Their separation was an elephant in the room when they went back to Booth's office, neither of them speaking at all, let alone about what just happened in Cullen's office. Brennan was sitting in a chair, distracting herself by looking at all of his personal items scattered around his office, while Booth sat at his desk squeezing his stress ball rigorously.

"God dammit!" Brennan's heart nearly jumped out of her chest when her partner finally broke the silence with his sharp words, slamming the stress ball back down onto his desk before he looked at her again, "he's trying to make an example out of us."

"Booth, I don't think so," she kept her voice low, "he seemed very angry."

"I know what he's doing. He's showing everyone that he means business. If he punishes me, then everyone will know he won't hesitate to punish them."

"I think you're blowing things out of proportion."

Booth closed his eyes, letting out a long, frustrated huff.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

"For what?"

"For ruining this for you. I know how much you like being out in the field, and working to solve murders, and now you're just going to be stuck in the Jeffersonian like some sort of lab rat, when you and I both know that's not who you are."

Brennan shrugged.

"It's not your fault," she said softly, "squints belong in a lab anyway. I'm just going back to my natural habitat."

Booth laughed half heartedly at her joke as Brennan half-smiled.

"Is there anything I can say that will make you feel better?" She asked.

"No," Booth told her, honestly, "but it's the fact that you're trying that matters."

"Would you feel better if I pleasured you orally from under your desk?"

Booth was pretty sure he'd blacked out for a few seconds, his cheeks rapidly turning a crisp scarlet color.

"What?" He asked, knowing he must have misheard.

"I saw it on television a few days ago," she shrugged, "I assume it's common workplace behavior for a couple."

"It's not," he assured her, his voice slightly frantic, "it's definitely not."

"If you say so," she shrugged, as if this whole conversation was completely normal, "I guess you would know better than me."

They sat in silence for a little bit, Booth feeling that it was an uncomfortable silence while Brennan just felt like it was casual. After a minute or two, Booth opened up a file and slowly started to work on it, not feeling up to doing anything work related after he found out that, soon enough, he and Brennan were no longer going to be partners.

"Cam let me off work early," Brennan told him, standing up and smoothing her pants down, waiting for him to look at her before she continued, "so I have nothing to do. Maybe I'll go do a little shopping. Most of my clothes are getting small on me now, anyway."

When she turned towards the door, Booth stopped her.

"Bones, wait," she turned around when he called to her, "would you mind staying with me? Just for a little while."

Brennan smiled happily at the offer and sat back down in the chair next to him, smoothing a hand over his shoulder gently.

"I'll stay for as long as you want me too," she assured him, receiving a grateful smile before he went back to work, feeling a sense of comfort as he filled out the file with his wife's hand on his shoulder.


	115. Booth Is Not Replaceable

**A/N: Sorry about the minor delay on this one, folks. My muse seemed to abandon me this week. xD But this chapter actually wound up becoming much longer than I intended it to be. And by the way, next chapter is the last chapter, and then there's the epilogue, so we're coming to a close very soon. **

**And I just feel the need to tell you guys that I'm hyperventilating over here in anticipation of next weeks episode. No lie, my hands were shaking when I first saw the promo xD *VERY MINOR SPOILER* between someone kicking the bucket and Brennan and Booth in bed together...I think I'm going to go into cardiac arrest! xDD *END OF VERY MINOR SPOILER***

Chapter One Hundred Fifteen:

"Booth Is Not Replaceable"

Brennan wiped the sweat off of her forehead as she flopped back against the pillows, her chest heaving with uneven breaths as she gasped for air. After a few minutes of getting her bearings, she turned over onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow to look at her husband, seeing that he was laying flat on his back as well, his arm over his eyes as his chest moved in sync with his rapid breathing the same way hers was.

"Wow," she said, breathlessly, "that was...unexpected."

She frowned when she didn't get a response, using the fingers on her free hand to trace small patters on her partner's chest.

"Booth?" She asked softly, "You alright?"

"Yeah," he promised, forcing a half smile, "why wouldn't I be?"

"Why don't you tell me," she brushed her fingers through his hair, which was now damp with sweat, "you're usually Mr. Let's Make Love, but tonight you come home from work and ravish me within twenty minutes without even saying hello, and now you're quiet."

"I thought you liked fast and uninhibited," he said, defensively, "and, incase you forgot, you were the one saying 'wow' a minute ago."

"It was worthy of a 'wow'. Sex with you is always worthy of a 'wow'. But you just, didn't seem to care much that time around."

"Of course I cared," he murmured.

"You didn't even take your socks off, and you only looked at me once, maybe twice," she pointed out, "you weren't wanting to make love, or have an intimate connection, you just needed a release. Which is fine, but I'm just curious to know what's upsetting you. Because you're not acting yourself."

Booth groaned in frustration with himself, finally looking at her.

"This is gonna sound stupid," he warned her.

"I'm sure it's not."

Booth propped himself up on his elbow as well, brushing a piece of hair out of her eyes for her before he spoke quietly.

"I'm having a little bit of anxiety, with our partnership getting severed and all that stuff," he confessed, "I mean, it's been a few days since Cullen told us this would be our last case together, and I don't think I've stopped thinking about it since. It's making me, nervous."

"That's understandable," she shrugged, "you are one of those people who does not like change. That's why you keep your things until they're practically broken. Because the idea of getting something new and different makes you nervous. There are plenty of people like that. It is not stupid at all."

"That's good to know and everything, but that's not it," he saw the look of confusion wash over her face, "I mean, it is, for the most part. But I've had this little nagging feeling that's been making it worse. A part of me is afraid that when we stop working together, we're going to grow apart."

"Booth," she laughed lightly, "we're married. We live together. It's not like we're never going to see each other again."

"I know, I know, it's dumb, I just," he paused, feeling even more idiotic now than he did before, "it's stupid. It's just one of those irrational fears. Forget I said anything."

"I didn't mean to upset you by laughing," she touched her husband's face gently, "it is understandable why you would fear that, Booth. I promise. But it's not going to happen. Work is just work. I can still come to visit you, and you can come to visit me, and worst case scenario, if we're both busy and can't find the time, we'll meet up after work and do what we always do. Some nights we'll go out to dinner. Others we'll stay in and spend some quality time together. Nothing is going to change between us, okay?"

"Alright," he finally smiled, "I'm gonna hold you to that though."

"I'm expecting you to," she kept the smile on her face, but changed her tone to sound slightly more serious, "but, all kidding aside, we're going to be just fine," she promised, "you and I and the baby are going to be just fine. It doesn't matter if we work together."

"I know," Booth assured her, kissing her forehead softly.

Brennan waited a minute before taking it upon herself to cuddle against her partner's chest, feeling his arms move to wrap around her waist once she was settled where she wanted to be. She smiled when he nuzzled her temple softly.

"Temperance Brennan is a cuddler," he pondered aloud, "to this day, it still shocks me."

"Well I wasn't always a 'cuddler'," she shrugged, "there are a very select few people whom I've ever cuddled with. There's you, and Michael, and, on occasion I would cuddle with Sully, but usually only after sex. That was beca-"

"Okay, enough, enough," he spoke over her after he heard the word 'sex', since, admittedly, he hated hearing her talk about her sex life prior to him, "honestly, Bones, you're laying in bed with your husband, and _that's_ what you decide to talk about?"

"You brought it up," she reminded him.

"I didn't ask about your former love life," he closed his eyes in frustration.

"You're jealous," she laughed lightly, always finding it adorable when he got bent out of shape at the mention of her former boyfriends.

"I'm not jealous."

"Of course you are. You're a possessive alpha male."

"See, now _that_ sounds offensive."

"It shouldn't offend you, Booth. It's just what you are," she shrugged, "many women find it a very attractive trait."

"I don't care if many women find it attractive," he told her, with a small, semi-seductive smile, "I care if my wife finds it attractive."

"I do, for the most part. Sometimes it gets very annoying though."

"Great, thanks."

"Aw, Booth," she had to laugh, pinching his cheek playfully, causing him to wince and lean away from her, "you're cute when you get all pouty."

"Yeah, yeah," he gently pushed her hand away from his face.

Brennan turned back around so her back was against his chest once again, waiting a few minutes before she spoke again, placing her hands over his.

"Who was the first person you slept with?" She asked curiously.

Booth was grateful that she couldn't see him blush, since her back was to him.

"You. You caught me. I was a virgin when we met."

Brennan rolled her eyes.

"Booth, I'm serious."

"What does it matter?" He laughed, "You don't know her anyway."

"What did she look like?" Brennan asked.

"I don't know. Long blonde hair, green eyes, thin," he tried.

"Your type."

"Oh God, don't start that again."

"I'm just saying, it's interesting that the woman, or rather girl, who took your virginity was exactly the type of person you usually find attractive."

"Why do you have to say it like that?" Booth asked, "'Took my virginity'. You make it sound like she was some sort of evil temptress who took this poor boy's innocence."

"Was it her first time too?"

"Why are you asking me so many questions about this?"

Brennan turned herself around to look at him again, only then seeing how uncomfortable all of this was making him, which she couldn't, for the life of her, understand. If he was asking her these questions she wouldn't have a problem answering them.

"I'm curious," she told him, simply.

"No, it wasn't her first time too. And before you ask, yes, she was older than me."

"Did you love her?" Brennan asked.

"No, I didn't love her," he admitted, "I was a teenage boy, and she was an older, more experienced girl. So when she said she wanted to take that step, I wasn't going to say no. Of course, I didn't know she was going to laugh at me when I first agreed," he saw the curious look Brennan was giving him, "listen, can we just not talk about this part? It's embarrassing."

"Well you can't just say things like than and then stop," she laughed, "now you have to tell me. I told you about the smurf incident."

Booth ran a hand through his hair, looking down when her fingers traced over his chest.

"She kind of laughed at me because I couldn't unclip her bra," he noticed his wife was trying not to laugh, causing him to huff in irritation, "see? This is why I didn't want to tell you. It's not funny, okay. I'd unsnapped a bra before, I'd been to second base. It's just, this one was one of those stupid front clips. I mean, girls should really warn us when they wear those. And I kind of lied and told her it wasn't my first time, so she just though I was bad in bed. Come to think of it, I don't think she ever called me again after it. All in all, it was not a great experience."

"I don't blame her for the lack of conversation after your bad sexual encounter," Brennan shrugged, "when the sex is bad, the relationship won't work. There are plenty of men I stopped calling because they weren't satisfying in that department."

"You do know that when you do that, you're just killing a guy's self esteem, right?"

"I'm not going to see someone who can't satisfy me. It's pointless."

"So if the sex was bad between us, you wouldn't have told me? You would have just, stopped talking to me?"

"Maybe I would have told you, although it would have been more awkward with us because we would have to continue seeing one another at work, but, if you were just another man, maybe I would have just stopped talking to you."

Booth drew in a deep breath, now knowing that his wife was one of 'those girls'. The ones that made all the guys feel as if they weren't good enough.

"Can we stop talking about this?" He asked.

"Okay," she agreed simply, turning herself back around to make the situation less awkward.

They lay in an awkward silence for, what felt like, forever. Now Brennan was starting to regret bringing up the topic, since, for whatever reason, it made things extremely awkward between them. She didn't understand why though, since he was still holding her close, his arms linked around her waist. After it became unbearable to her, she spoke.

"So," she started, slowly, "want to make love?"

She was only slightly surprised when Booth turned her around and kissed her.

"I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

Brennan awoke to the sound of the sink running in the bathroom and things sounding like they were being shuffled around. Rolling over onto her stomach sleepily, she glanced at the clock, groaning when she saw how early it was. Too early. In fact, it was still pitch black outside. She closed her eyes to go back to sleep, hearing the water stop and the bathroom door open, then shut again quietly.

"Bones? Baby?" Booth whispered, touching her shoulder gently, causing her to shift slightly under the covers.

"Mm," she mumbled.

"I gotta go in early," he told her, seeing her open her eyes halfway and twist around to look at him, "Cullen's holding a meeting. I just wanted to let you know."

"Kay," she responded softly, in a sleep ridden voice, smiling when he kissed her cheek softly, feeling no scratch against her skin, "you just shaved."

"Yeah," he laughed lightly, looking her in the eyes.

"You smell good too," she told him, smiling again when he did, "you smell like aftershave."

"It's the aftershave you got me," he reminded her, touching her cheek gently, "listen, you know I'd love to stay and talk to you, but Cullen 'll get all bent out of shape if I'm late, especially now that he knows."

Brennan nodded in agreement, simply pointing weakly to her lips. Booth laughed softly and leaned down to give her a small, tender kiss.

"I'll see you later," he promised, fixing the covers for her so her arms were covered again, "maybe I'll stop by the lab later."

"Okay," she whispered, closing her eyes again, feeling him press one last kiss to her forehead.

"And by the way," he whispered, before he left, "I found my St. Christopher medal behind the coffee pot. Not entirely sure how it got there."

Before she could respond, he was gone, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could. She looked over to the night stand to find the St. Christopher medal that she had taken off during one of their fights nearly glowing in the pitch black room. Feeling incredibly guilty knowing that he found it and now knew that, not only did she take it off, but she just tossed one of his most valued possessions behind the coffee pot. With a small sigh, she picked it back up and hung it back around her neck, the cold metal of the chain rapidly growing warm and familiar again.

* * *

"Honestly, Cam, I think she would tell us if she got _married_," a tan and refreshed Angela placed her hands on her hips as she spoke, "are you sure it wasn't the right hand?"

"I know what I saw. Gold band around the left finger," Cam was slightly insulted at how stupid Angela apparently thought she was, "Booth and Brennan are now Booth and Booth."

"I just don't see why they would elope," Angela still wasn't completely sold on the theory, "they have friends that would support their decision. It's not like there's any of us that don't know at this point. They probably would have at least had a small, intimate ceremony."

"If you don't believe me then go see for yourself," Cam gave up on trying to reason with her.

"Fine, I will," Angela turned towards her friend's office to go see if Cam's suspicions were in fact true.

Meanwhile, Brennan was sitting in her office, finding that, not only was she extremely bored, since she had virtually nothing to do, but that her pregnancy hormones were at a fever pitch that day. She had been on and off thinking about how, since they were going to talk to Robert Wilson later, this could very well be their last day working together, which made her grow upset. She even found herself starting to cry a few times. None of this was fair. She and Booth had been together for almost eight months, and it had yet to compromise their work. So where did Cullen get off separating them?

And then the fears came to her. What if Booth was right? What if, once they stopped working together, they grew apart? Their relationship started based off their partnership. Work was one of the only things they had in common. So what if now that, that was taken away, they didn't have any common ground anymore?

"Remember me?" The voice of Angela pulled her out of her own thoughts.

"Hey, Ange," she smiled brightly, subtly slipping her hands into her lap, tugging her wedding ring off and sliding it onto her right hand under the desk, "how was Aruba?"

"Sunny, warm, everything this place is not," she laughed lightly, "Jack and I are considering buying a vacation home there. We wanted to stay forever."

Brennan tensed a little when she heard the words, bringing her back to when she practically spilled her guts out to her husband, confessing to him about how she wanted to stay in that place, the place where it was just them, for the rest of their lives.

"I know the feeling," her voice was soft, as she quickly caught herself, "I never want to leave vacation either. It's nice to get away every now and then."

"Don't I know it," Angela laughed lightly, "especially when you're newlyweds. Laying in the sand all day, making passionate love all night. It's a great thing, Bren, it really is," her smile was radiant as she spoke, "you and Booth really need to try the whole 'sex on the beach' thing. It's very romantic. Especially at sunset."

"I'll keep that in mind," Brennan laughed lightly.

"So what did you do while I was gone?" Angela asked, not wanting to come on too strong with an 'are you married or not?', but not wanting to wait for her to spit it out on her own accord, "anything interesting?"

Brennan couldn't help but become suspicious. How did Angela know something was different? Maybe she didn't slip her ring off in time.

"Nothing," she shrugged, nonchalantly, "same old."

"How boring," Angela laughed.

"Sorry, next time you go on vacation I'll make sure to do something exciting," she said sarcastically, taking her hands out of her lap and placing them back on her desk.

Angela glanced at her friend's hands discreetly, seeing that the ring was, in fact, on her right finger, the way she told Cam it probably was.

"Pretty ring," she commented, "I don't think I've ever seen that one before."

"Oh, this?" Brennan asked, glancing at the ring, as if it was just another piece of jewelry, "it's new. It was a gift."

"From Booth?" Angela's smile was mischievous.

"Yes," Brennan laughed at how Angela still felt like this was some sort of secret.

"Why'd he give you a ring?"

"Because he loves me?"

"Jeez, why don't you two just get married already?"

"We're not getting married," Brennan said, almost a little too quickly, "I believe I discussed this with you already."

"Alright, alright, don't pop a blood vessel," Angela held her hands up in a surrender, "I'm just saying, you guys are practically married, without actually being legally married."

"Not, legally, and married are the key words to your statement," Brennan reminded her.

Angela didn't respond, and was about to walk out of the office before Brennan spoke again.

"The FBI won't allow Booth and I work together anymore," she blurted out, seeing Angela's mouth fall open in shock, "this is our last case together. We told Cullen about our relationship and he lost it. He said we'll never work together again. I was actually very surprised that Booth didn't get fired."

"You're joking, right?"

Brennan shook her head.

"We're going to speak with Robert Wilson today," she told her, "if everything goes the way it should, this will be the last time we go question someone together."

"Sweetie, I'm with you, one hundred percent, you know that, right?"

"Yes, I understand, but I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"If the FBI is going to split you two up, they're losing all of us. Me, Hodgins, Zack, and probably even Cam. We aren't the FBI's people. We're you and Booth's people."

"Angela, that's kind, but you don't have to do that," Brennan assured her, "continue to work with the FBI. It isn't a big deal."

"It is a big deal, sweetie. I know you don't want to work with another agent."

"I don't, and I told Cullen I wouldn't, but I thought it over, and I think maybe I'll just work with someone else, if that is what the FBI wants. We work in cooperation with them. We have for several years. I don't want to be the one who messes that all up simply because of who I'm currently sleeping with. I would have to discuss it with Booth, but I don't think he would mind."

"Of course he would mind, Bren. He'd be jealous that you were working with someone else when he wishes you were working with him."

"There would be nothing for him to be jealous of. It's just work."

Angela sighed, giving up on trying to reason with her.

"You can do what you want, but you're going to hurt Booth's feelings," she warned her, "and I'm just warning you, even if you do decide to work with someone else, none of us will."

"But you just said you were on my side," Brennan was hopelessly confused now.

"I am, but all of us are Booth's friends too, and we're not going to start working with another agent like it's all good times when it's not," she saw the look of disapproval on Brennan's face when she spoke, "Booth is not replaceable. And I won't work with some bureaucratic idiot who thinks he's above the rest of us."

"No one said my new partner would be like that," Brennan reminded her, "he or she could be very kind."

"He or she will not be Booth, and, like I said, Booth is not someone who is easily replaced," Angela told her, a small frown on her face, since she could tell that obviously Brennan wasn't taking this as seriously as she was, "if you love him, you won't hurt him like that."

"You're acting like I'm going to be sleeping with someone else," Brennan rolled her eyes, "it's just work, Ange. He'll understand."

"No, he'll pretend he's being understanding, but I'm telling you right now, I know for a fact, he'll be hurt."

"I believe I know him better than you do."

It was awkwardly silent between the two women for a few seconds, only to be interrupted when the door opened, and they both heard the familiar voice of the man they were just discussing.

"Hey," his voice was warm when he greeted his wife, smiling when he saw Angela, "hey, you," he pulled the artist into a soft hug, "how'd the honeymoon go?"

"Fantastically," she laughed, letting go of him after a few seconds.

"Good, I'm glad," he smiled, glancing over at Brennan, "Bones, come on, we gotta go. Robert and his lawyer are waiting for us," he turned his attention back to Angela when Brennan stood up and smoothed her shirt down, "hey, Ange. You and Hodgins should meet Bones and I for drinks later, and you can tell us all about Aruba."

"Sure," Angela agreed, "we dragging Cam, Sweets, and Zack along too?"

"Yeah, great, we'll have the whole gang," he smiled, taking Brennan's hand once she was next to him, "I'll see you later then. Nine sound good?"

"Nine sounds perfect," she gave him a thumbs up, "now hurry up and go get your bad guy."

"We're certainly going to try," Booth laughed, tugging on his wife's hand after he said goodbye to Angela to lead her out the door.


	116. Things Are Gonna Have To Change

**A/N: Last chapter! =D And then, of course, there's the epilogue and then the sequel, so don't fret. It isn't the end of our journey, it's nearly the beginning. (that was poetic, right? xD) Anyway, I actually should have had this chapter out to you last night, but fanfiction was not being cooperative and wouldn't let me upload the document. It was actually very irritating, because I finished this and wrote a oneshot last night, and I couldn't publish either. =p But it's okay now. =] **

Chapter One Hundred Sixteen:

"Things Are Gonna Have To Change"

"Angela is such a difficult best friend," Brennan murmured, sitting in her place in the front of her husband's SUV, pulling the ring off of her right hand to put it back where it belonged, "she is so observant, and so," she paused, searching for the right word, "nosy."

"What'd she do this time?" Booth asked.

"She was pumping me, like she always is," she shrugged, "I don't know how she figured out that something was different, but I don't think she figured anything out about our marriage," she half smiled empathetically at her partner, "I know you want to tell them tonight, so I didn't say anything."

"Thank you, Bones, that was kind of you," he smiled back, glancing at her briefly before focusing on the road again.

Brennan nodded, tapping her fingers against the armrest as she looked out the front windshield, watching other cars drive by.

"How would you feel about me working with someone else?" She asked, keeping her voice soft, not wanting to come on too strong.

Surprised, Booth glanced over at her again, his eyebrow furrowed in confusion.

"What do you mean?" He asked, "Like, quitting the Jeffersonian and finding somewhere else to work, or getting a new FBI partner?"

"The second one," she said meekly.

"How would I feel about you getting a new partner?" He mulled over the question, putting some thought into it, finally shrugging after a few seconds, "I mean, if that's what you want..."

"No, Booth, I'm not asking about me, I'm asking about you," she looked at him sternly, wanting to make sure he was going to be honest with her, "would it upset you if I got a new partner?"

"No, of course not," he laughed lightly, glancing at her, as if he was seeking her approval on his last comment, "it's just work. It's not like you're asking if you can get a second husband. It wouldn't be a big deal at all."

Brennan looked at him seriously, biting her bottom lip.

"You're being insincere," she mumbled.

Booth laughed.

"So now, all of the sudden, you can tell when people are lying?"

"I can tell when _you're_ lying," she frowned, crossing her arms as they drove, "I need you to be honest with me right now, Booth. I need to know if you would honestly be upset if I got a new partner. I will not be angry if you say yes. It's why I came to you in the first place, to make sure. I don't want to do anything in regards to it before I know that it won't change things between us."

"Honestly, it'd be a little weird for me at first, but I'd get used to it," he assured her, "I want what you want. If you want a new partner, I support your decision."

Brennan sighed, running her thumb over the golden band on her left finger.

"You know I'd rather be working with you," she said, softly.

"I know," he assured her, "but there's no use in longing for something you can't have. We can't work with each other. You shouldn't stop doing what you love because of that. You like being out in the field solving murders, so if you need to get a new partner to be able to do that, I'll just have to adjust," he glanced at her with a serious expression, "I'm angry with Cullen, not you."

"Okay," Brennan believed him, twisting her wedding ring around her finger, staying quiet for a moment before she spoke again, "maybe they'll let me work with Sully again."

"Sully?" Booth asked, unsurely.

"Yes. He's a very good FBI agent, and we work well together."

"Really? Sully? Of all people?"

"Booth, I don't see why you are so against this," she frowned, "do you think we are going to resume a sexual relationship if we work together again?"

"Woah, no, of course not. I don't think you'd cheat on me or anything," he rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably with the hand he didn't have on the steering wheel, "I just think he's going to try. He has feelings for you, Bones. Really strong feelings. And I don't think he'll be able to control that," he glanced at her again, "the whole thing just makes me a little uncomfortable, that's all."

"Nothing would happen, Booth. Sully and the woman from Egyptology are seeing each other again. He isn't interested in me anymore."

"Some feelings don't go away," he reminded her, "I mean, if we broke up, wouldn't you still have feelings for me?"

"It would depend on how we broke up," she shrugged, "if it was a mutual agreement to end our marriage, then possibly, but if it was a big blowout, then probably not."

Booth let out a long sigh.

"I'm asking you this as a favor, Bones," his voice was low and slightly pleading, "you working with someone else is going to hurt a little, but I'm willing to suck it up. The one thing I'm asking is that you don't work with Sully," he looked over to make sure she was listening, "I don't think it's too much to ask."

"You're right, it's not," she agreed with a nod, "if it means that much to you, I won't work with Sully."

Booth half smiled.

"Thank you."

"Of course," she said, softly, "I don't want any of this to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable," he promised.

Brennan watched him as he drove, looking for any visible signs of him being upset or hurt the way Angela insisted he would be. He seemed fine.

"Angela said you would be upset," she told him.

"Nah," he laughed lightly, "I mean, I am, but not at you. I'm upset with the whole situation, but you wanting to get a new partner," he paused with an awkward chuckle, "it's not a big deal. It's just work, right?"

"That's what I told her, but she said that you would still be upset. She said you would pretend it's fine when it's really not," she continued to watch him, "are you sure she isn't correct? Are you sure you're not just pretending to be okay with this?"

"No, Bones, of course not. It's fine. I'm fine. This is me being totally fine."

"Okay," she reluctantly agreed, since, even though he was swearing he was fine, she sensed just a hint of dishonesty in his voice. But she figured asking if he was lying again would only make him angry, so she avoided the question, starting a new topic, "does my shirt cover the baby? Because I'm not sure I want Robert knowing."

"If he tries anything, if he even looks at you wrong, I will end him," he told her seriously, "you have nothing to worry about. I've had it with this kid. One wrong move, and I swear, I will make his life a living hell."

"Booth, he isn't going to tell us anything if you talk to him like that," she told him, "in all honesty, he probably won't tell us anything anyway since you're going to be there. Maybe I should just talk to him."

"No," the small word was low and harsh, "you're not going in a room with him alone."

"He's in prison, he won't be able to touch me."

"I don't care. He's a psychopath. I don't want you alone with him."

Brennan bit her lip to refrain from blurting anything out that she would come to regret later and placed her hands in her lap, resorting to expressing her annoyance with a small eye roll.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Temperance," her husband's voice was quiet, "I'm only concerned for your safety."

"A little too concerned," she held up her hand before he could speak again, "I know, I know, you only do it because you love me."

"I do love you," he promised, he kept his tone light, even though he could tell she was growing annoyed with him, "most of the things I do that you call possessive and 'alpha male-ish', I do to protect you."

"I don't need protecting," she lowered her voice.

"Everybody needs protecting sometimes, Bones."

"Not all the time," she reminded him.

"You're right, not all the time," he agreed, "but when someone's being stalked by a psychopathic teenager who murdered three children, it's usually one of those times."

"Booth, I love you, but you need to give me some breathing room," she told him seriously, "you're smothering me. And yes, I understand it's out of love, but I'm telling you that I'm fine, and than I don't need as much protecting as you're willing to give. I understand that you're concerned, but he's in prison. There is no way he can get to me from prison. And even though we're going to be in a room together when we speak to him, there'll be so many guards that he won't be able to do anything."

"I'm sorry," he apologized, seeing that apparently his concern for her was upsetting her, "I know you're independent, but I feel like, after the Villeda incident, you can never be too careful."

"What happened with Villeda was not your fault," she promised, "it was inevitable."

"It wasn't inevitable, Bones" he glanced away from the road to see her looking at him with pleading eyes, begging him to please just let all of this go and start a new topic, "but it doesn't matter anymore. Villeda's dead."

"Yes. And I don't feel sorry for the bastard either."

"No one does. He's hurt more people than he's helped."

Brennan nodded in agreement, looking to her husband again. Maybe it was all in her head, but she felt as if he looked different. Like maybe he was distressed or worried.

"I love you," she said softly, touching his forearm, "you know that, right?"

"I know, and I love you too."

"And I will love you just as much as I do now, even when I get a new partner," she rubbed his forearm softly, "there is nothing for you to worry about. Nothing is going to change between us."

"Things are gonna have to change," he reminded her, "we won't see each other as often, so we'll have to work out more time to spend together. And sometimes I'll have to go out of town when you don't, and sometimes you'll have to go out of town when I don't."

"But, other than that, we'll still be, us," she said, sounding slightly more concerned now.

"Of course," he promised, "it'll work out, Bones. Because I love you and you love me. And that's what matters in a marriage."

"And the baby," she smiled, resting her hands on her stomach, "we have the baby too."

"Yeah, and Little Chris," he reached over to poke the bulge in her stomach gently with his index finger, "we'll always have Chris."

"Or Christine," she couldn't help but to smile at his affectionate gesture.

"Chris goes both ways. Christian or Christine. Either way, it's our little Chris."

"I see your point," she laughed lightly, looking down at her stomach, running her hand over the bump, "I can't wait until I can actually hold it."

"Soon," he assured her, "a few more months. You're almost up to month four now, so it's not too much longer, okay? Just hang in there, I know it's tough."

Brennan nodded, taking his hand off of her stomach to hold it in hers.

"Soon," she agreed, "five more months."

* * *

The seven friends were gathered around their table at Founding Fathers, most of them with beer or scotch in their hands, except for Brennan, who had a glass of water. Angela was speaking between laughs, trying her hardest to get her story out, all of them making it ten times more difficult, since they were all laughing as well.

"So Hodgins must have jumped twenty feet out of the water, screaming, 'Shark! Shark!', and he swam back to the boat faster than I thought possible," she laughed with the rest of them, even Hodgins finding it amusing, "it was just a piece of coral."

"In my defense," Hodgins spoke over their friends, who were now laughing loudly, "my goggles were cloudy and I couldn't see. When you see something big and grey under you in the middle of the ocean, you usually want to swim away. Look, I'm an entomologist, not a marine biologist. How was I supposed to know?"

"It looked nothing like a shark," Angela filled them all in, "and I wanted to help him, I really did, but I was kind of too busy laughing."

"Hey, how about we change subjects, huh?" Hodgins had to laugh, "Enough about Aruba, I'm sure you guys are sick of listening to these boring stories. So, Brennan and Booth, how'd it go with the Wilson kid today?"

He could see both of their smiles fade at the mention of Robert Wilson, since both of them had been trying to forget about it for the past several hours.

"He confessed," Booth told him, "he confessed everything. But he'll plead insanity, and he'll win. Best case scenario, he'll be locked away in the loony bin for a few years," he took a sip of his beer, "and not only is this kid going to get off with basically a slap on the wrist for murdering three children, but this is going to be the last case Bones and I ever work together. We're ending on a bad note, and that's rubbing me the wrong way."

The rest of their smiles faded as well, seeing that this was not exactly a happy topic.

"No need to look at it that way," Cam assured him, putting on a comforting smile, "think of all the other cases when you guys put away the bad guy for life. Just because you're ending on a not so great note doesn't mean that the whole partnership was a failure."

Angela had mentioned to Brennan when they first arrived at the bar that she had told the rest of the squints about she and Booth's separation, simply in a fit of anger towards the subject. She also told her that she made Hodgins promise that he wouldn't work in cooperation with the FBI anymore, which didn't fail to annoy her. Brennan didn't understand why Angela was making such a big deal out of this. If it wasn't a big deal to her, then it shouldn't have been a big deal to Angela. The least she could do was be a supportive best friend.

"I know, I know," Booth assured his ex, taking another sip of his beer, "I'm just being negative. Of course there were more good things in our partnership than bad," he smiled down at his wife apologetically from where he was standing behind her chair, kissing her hair softly, "I just, wish things didn't have to change, that's all. I wish things could just stay the way they are now. Bones and I in a relationship and solving murders with you guys. That's the way things work, and I just don't see why Cullen is wrecking that."

"Because he's a hard-ass," Angela mumbled under her breath, taking a sip of her beer, "you know, there's a fine line between making sure people respect you, and just being a jerk when it's completely unnecessary," she took a long pause, rolling her eyes, "I've never liked him. And I'll be damned if I ever do another favor for him again. To think that his daughter is watching from above, seeing the way he's treating you guys when you were the ones that helped her."

"We don't want to be repaid for helping Amy," Booth assured her, "and, I mean, Cullen just hasn't really been the same since she died. Maybe that has something to do with the way he's acting."

"She wouldn't want you two getting split up," Angela shook her head at everything that was going on, "it's going to get quiet without you, Booth."

"I'll still be around," he assured her, "I'll stop by to say hello every now and then. Bones 'll probably need me to rub her back everyday in a few months," his voice trailed off when he remembered that they still hadn't told Sweets.

"Booth, I already know," Sweets could tell by his facial expression what he was concerned about, "you said her back hurt at the wedding, and then she was sick after the ceremony and she wasn't drinking at the reception. I'm young, not stupid," he looked to Brennan, "congratulations, Doctor Brennan. I'm happy for you guys."

"Thank you, even thought I am still baffled as to why so many people are congratulating me on Booth's sperm fertilizing my egg."

Booth winced at the way she described it.

"You have life growing inside you, Doctor Brennan," Sweets attempted to explain, "that's incredible. You're bringing a new person into this world."

"I wouldn't even try to explain if I were you," Angela warned him, "she and I already had this conversation."

Brennan rolled her eyes and glanced up at her husband, as if she was asking him to continue.

"And you know," Booth took her hint and continued to speak, "I'm going to want to stop by to check on my wife every now and then."

Cam immediately smiled a cocky smirk as Angela reached into her wallet, pulled out a ten dollar bill, and handed it to her boss. The rest of them just stared at the couple with wide eyes and open mouths.

"Yes," Booth elaborated, taking Brennan's left hand in his to show them their wedding rings, "Bones and I are married."

"Wow," Hodgins laughed, completely shocked by the news, "when?"

"After your wedding," Brennan told him, smiling brightly up at her husband as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze, "Booth had asked me to marry him a while ago, and I didn't want to, but after seeing how happy you guys were, I decided I wanted that too."

"Congratulations you guys," Angela hugged her friend's husband, placing a friendly kiss on his cheek before moving to Brennan to do the same, "I'm so happy for you both, even though I'm a little insulted that I wasn't informed."

"I tried to tell you," Cam reminded her, "you didn't want to listen to me," she turned to the newlyweds to explain, "I saw the ring on your finger, Doctor Brennan, and I told Angela, but she insisted I was seeing things."

"Is that why you were pumping me this morning?" Brennan asked Angela, her eyebrow furrowed in confusion.

"Maybe," Angela smiled sweetly.

"So do we owe you gifts now?" Zack asked curiously, "Because normally when people get married they get gifts."

"No, we don't need gifts," Booth assured him, "we didn't get married for the gifts. We love each other."

"Yes, we do," Brennan agreed, "we love each other."

For the rest of the night, as they all sat around, laughing and talking, Brennan couldn't help but to feel at home. She knew it wasn't home as in where she slept, but home as in the place she wanted and liked to be. Surrounded by her friends, her husband holding her hand and occasionally sneaking a kiss onto her head or cheek as they talked about good memories and laughed at embarrassing stories. She remembered telling Booth a couple years back that she wasn't meant to be in a family, but now she knew that she had been wrong. Now, not only did she have her surrogate family of all of her friends and colleagues, but she had her real family, made of herself and Booth and their baby.

All of those years before that she'd been afraid that telling Booth the way she felt about him would ruin their friendship, make things awkward between them, but, in reality, it only brought them closer together. Now they were everything to each other. He was her best friend, her lover, her husband, the father of her child. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

_You got it right this time, Bren_, she praised herself silently, _you did it right this time. _


	117. Epilogue

**A/N: So our journey finally comes to an end. Honestly, I found myself getting a little sentimental as I was bringing 'Getting There' to a close (even though I'll be writing the sequel, so I'm not entirely sure why xD). This ficiton has been my baby. It was my first, I've been writing it since August, and I really _enjoy_ writing it. I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who has been supportive of this fiction and stuck with me throughout it. You guys are awesome, honestly. If it wasn't for all of you, it would have never turned into what it is now.**

**So this is the longest chapter yet, but it's nothing but pure fluff. So enjoy. =] I actually really enjoyed writing it. And be on the lookout for the sequel, which will be coming very soon. **

Epilogue

* * *

Brennan and Booth's Apartment; Christmas Eve; 1:19 P.M.

* * *

Brennan was buttoning her partner's light blue shirt over her body when she felt his arms wrap around her waist from behind, kissing her temple softly. He was already most of the way dressed again, his shirt just needing to be buttoned back up and his tie needing to be replaced.

"I love lunch break sex," he told her, whispering in her ear, "I really do."

"I know you do," she laughed lightly, leaning her back against his chest with a small, content sigh, "remind me again why we're working on Christmas Eve."

"Because we both work way too hard," he reminded her, tucking her hair behind her ear for her, "I don't think we can help ourselves."

She laughed lightly and turned her head so her cheek was pressed against his shoulder, as he left little kisses over the line of her jaw and cheek.

"Mmm," Booth mumbled softly, burying his nose into her hair, "I love you."

"I love you too," she responded, her voice just as soft, as she placed her hands over his, which he had resting on her stomach.

She felt his right hand slide up from her stomach, finding the little piece of her black bra that was still visible, since the shirt she had draped over her wasn't all the way buttoned up, and running his thumb over the lacy material. He kissed her temple again before moving to her ear, nibbling gently on the lobe before blowing on it.

"Let's make love," he whispered smoothly.

Brennan squirmed and laughed in a breathy tone.

"We just made love," she reminded him.

"Let's do it again," he said, simply, as if she should have known the obvious solution.

"We don't have time," she peeked up at him, kissing the side of his neck softly, "and don't you men need 'recovery time' or something?"

"Bones, I'm not eighty. I've had plenty of recovery time," he reminded her, kissing her fabric covered shoulder, "and somehow when you use terms like 'you men' it sounds insulting."

"There is nothing wrong with that term," she shrugged, closing her eyes and smiling when she felt his lips against her neck, "if it sounded insulting it was unintentional."

"Yeah, yeah," he laughed lightly, running his thumb over the line of her jaw before tilting her head up to meet him in a gentle kiss.

Brennan reached behind her to hook her arm around his neck, keeping him close as their lips mingled in a slow, languid kiss. They only kissed for a few minutes before Booth spoke again, not breaking the contact of their lips when he did.

"I want you," he murmured softly against his wife's lips.

"I am aware," Brennan laughed, breaking the kiss and turning around so she could smooth her hands down his chest, "although I'm not entirely sure why, since we just satisfied urges a mere twenty minutes ago."

"I always want you," he explained, sneaking another kiss onto her lips, "I can't get enough of you," he kissed her jawbone again, and as much as she wanted to object, she didn't, only moved her hand to run her fingers through his hair, "you are so sexy. My sexy squint."

"Let's not get carried away, Booth."

"Oh, Bones," he sighed when a thought crossed his mind, stopping his kisses and brushing her hair out of her eyes, "we have to stop having sex next month, don't we?"

Brennan sighed as well.

"I was hoping you would forget about that," she admitted, "while I would not like to go into premature labor, I will not enjoy going months without intercourse either. I mean, it's only two months during the pregnancy, but once the baby's born we'll never have time for intimacy. Babies have an abnormal sleep pattern, so we wouldn't be able to plan time for-"

"Stop, stop, stop," he cut her off, "please, I'm having a hard enough time with this as it is."

"I know it's unpleasant, but we're going to have to deal with it," she shrugged, "I guess we'll just have to get our fill within this month."

"Well I'm trying and you're rejecting me, which is hurting my self esteem quite a bit, in case you were wondering."

Brennan bit her lip and glanced at the clock.

"Fine," she sighed, seeing his eyes light up with her words, "we have time for one more go round. But barely."

"Barely is enough time for me," he turned her back around in his arms so he could kiss her neck softly from behind, his fingers moving to work on the buttons of the oversized dress shirt she was wearing. Brennan tilted her head back to rest it against his shoulder with a sigh of pleasure.

"You're going to get me in trouble," she murmured half-heartedly.

"Cam doesn't care," his words vibrated against her neck.

She wanted to argue with him that she would grow to care if she continued to come in late every other day, but found herself distracted by his fingers brushing over the top of her chest when he got the first few buttons undone. And almost as if on cue, their phones pinged simultaneously, signaling text messages. Booth huffed and Brennan groaned as he pressed his forehead against her shoulder in defeat.

"We should probably..." he started, leaving it open for her to finish.

"Yes, we probably should," she sighed, as he unwrapped his arms from around her, and she knelt on the floor, digging through the small pile of the clothes she was wearing that day on the floor, finding her pants, which still contained her cell phone.

When she opened her phone and skimmed over the message, she looked up at her partner from where she was kneeling on the ground.

"Cullen?" She asked.

"Yep," he replied, with a roll of his eyes, as he started to fasten the buttons on his shirt.

"What does he want?" She asked, unbuttoning her husband's shirt and shrugging it off her shoulders, beginning to redress into her work clothes, "Hasn't he pissed us off enough?"

"Apparently not," Booth murmured bitterly, finding his tie on the floor, "he's probably introducing you to Ricky today," he told her, "why he needs me there for that is what I want to know."

"To shove it in your face that I'm getting a new partner, apparently," she rolled her eyes as well at the thought of how cruel his boss could be, "on Christmas Eve too. It's bad enough that we have to work, but now he's just going to be a jerk on top of that. Can't he just allow us to be a family today?"

"He's a jerk, what else can I tell ya'?" He straightened his tie, waiting patiently for her to finish getting dressed, "But there's no use in getting angry about it. We're not going to let him ruin our first Christmas together, alright?"

"Of course," she agreed, "we're going to have a perfect first Christmas," she smiled and he smiled back, before she remembered something, "can I ask for a favor from you though?"

"Sure."

"Can you go speak with Max today and wish him a Merry Christmas for me?" She asked, "I would like to go see him myself but I don't think I'll have time."

"Yeah, sure, I'll do it," he assured her, "but make a point of going to see him at some point in the near future."

"I will, and thank you," she kissed his cheek, "you're a good husband, Booth."

* * *

FBI Conference Room; Christmas Eve; 1:54 P.M.

* * *

"Ah, there you are," Cullen was waiting for the two of them in the conference room with a tall, black haired man in a suit, "I was starting to think you didn't get my messages."

"No, we got them," Brennan assured him, glancing at the other man with an unintentionally rude expression before she looked back to Booth.

Cullen hadn't seen Brennan in a couple months, and was noticeably surprised when he saw her baby bump, which was now unable to be hidden by her clothes. He looked to Booth, gesturing towards the anthropologist.

"Your kid?" He asked.

"Yeah," Booth responded, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm not trying to sound rude, sir, but why am I here?"

Cullen pulled a check out of his pocket without answering him, placing it in his hand.

"Merry Christmas, Booth," he told him, "it's your Christmas bonus. That's the only reason I called you here, so you can go if you want."

"Yeah, I have some last minute Christmas shopping to do," he leaned down to kiss his wife softly, "I'll see you later, Bones," he held his hand up in a goodbye to Cullen and the other FBI agent standing with him, "Merry Christmas."

They nodded and gave him the same type of wave before turning their attention back to Brennan, who was now standing there awkwardly with one man who she disliked immensely, and one who she didn't know at all.

"Doctor Brennan," Cullen started, "I'd like you to meet Ricky Hernandez, you two will be working together."

"Nice to meet you," Ricky's voice was warm as he held out his hand for her, almost too warm. It sounded sweet and thick, like honey. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Yes, nice to meet you," she shook his hand reluctantly.

"Get used to each other, because you'll be spending the majority of your time together," he told them, "I think you two will work well together, as long as Doctor Brennan here keeps an open mind."

Brennan bit her lip to refrain from saying anything rude.

"I have an open mind," she told him, "you seem to be forgetting that I am the one who suggested getting another partner. At first, I didn't want to work with anyone other than Booth, but I looked at it logically and decided that I could work just as effectively with someone else."

She knew that was a lie. Even if she and Ricky did wind up working well together, they would never have as effective of a partnership as she and Booth did. Booth was always genuine with her, never trying to spare her feelings or flatter her, and at that moment, she felt as if Ricky was being the opposite. But maybe that was just her longing to have her real partner back.

"Good, I'm glad to hear that," Cullen nodded, "sorry to call you both here on Christmas Eve, I just figured the sooner you were introduced the sooner you two can start working together. Especially since I'm assuming Doctor Brennan only has a few months until she's going to have to go on maternity leave."

"Yes, I'm due in the end of February," she told him, feeling slightly uncomfortable talking about her baby with the two of them.

"Boy or girl?" Ricky asked, attempting to strike up friendly conversation with his new partner.

"We don't know yet," she told him, "the doctor gave us a paper with the baby's sex on it, but we didn't open it yet. We agreed that we'd open it on Christmas morning."

"Cute idea," Ricky smiled sweetly, "what do you think it's going to be?"

"I have no way of knowing that," she told him, taking a short pause, "Booth thinks it will be a boy."

"I think Booth _wants _it to be a boy," he laughed lightly, "that would be just another son to play football and hockey with."

Brennan barely noticed that Cullen had left the room, leaving the two new partners alone to get to know each other better. She and Ricky talked for a little while, and she hardly noticed how much time was passing as they conversed, and he occasionally got a laugh or two out of her. Even though he was not Booth, maybe he was second best. And, for now, she would have to settle for second best.

* * *

Federal Prison; Christmas Eve; 4:15 P.M.

* * *

Max was surprised to see Booth that day, alone, without his daughter, since they normally wouldn't let anyone who wasn't family visit. But, regardless, he was happy to see a familiar face.

"Booth," his voice indicated his genuine happiness, "how'd you get in here."

"I'm FBI, Max, which is basically another way of saying I can do what ever I want," Booth laughed lightly, handing him the unwrapped package of socks, "Bones and I got you a little something for Christmas. I wrapped it, but the guards made me take the wrapping paper off just to make sure I wasn't smuggling in weapons or anything."

"Ah, socks, just what I needed," it still amused Booth how excited Max got over the simplest things. He guessed being in jail made people that way. "The kind with the arch support too. I always knew you were my favorite of Tempe's boyfriends," he stopped when he mentioned his daughter, "speaking of Tempe, where is she? Don't tell me you two are fighting."

"No, no, she got caught up at work, but she told me to wish you a merry Christmas for her," he told his father-in-law, "she feels bad about not being able to come herself."

"Tell her not to worry about it. I can manage," he paused, smiling gratefully at the man sitting across from him, "you didn't have to come either, Booth."

"I wasn't just going to let you sit here alone on Christmas Eve without any visitors," Booth shrugged, "it's not a big deal, Max. I mean, what else are son-in-laws for?"

Max's face lit up when he heard the words.

"Son-in-law?" He asked, with a big, genuine smile, "Yeah? Finally?"

"Finally," Booth confirmed, showing him the wedding ring on his left finger.

"I would hug you, but I'm afraid that if I try I'll have guards in here with tasers before I can even say congratulations," he laughed lightly, "when did this happen?"

"A couple months ago," he told him, "we were in Maryland for Hodgins and Angela's wedding, and she just, decided she wanted to get married," Booth laughed when he saw the surprised expression Max wore, "I was just as surprised as you are. But, I mean, of course Bones and I weren't going to just wait and plan a wedding like a normal couple. We eloped, that night."

"Wow," Max was smiling, "I'm so glad. This might be a better gift than the socks."

Booth laughed again.

"Well I'm glad I could make you happy on Christmas Eve," he told him, "honestly."

"I really love Tempe," Max said, seriously, "even though sometimes I don't really believe that she loves me back. But, regardless, the only thing I want for her is to be happy, and she's happy with you. It takes her a long time to trust after what I did to her, and you might actually be the only man that she _does_ trust fully. I don't want you to ever doubt that she loves you, because I know she does. I knew she did before you two were even together."

"I don't," Booth assured him, "Bones isn't the type of person who hides their feelings. If she didn't love me, she wouldn't say it."

"Don't I know it," Max chuckled, "never the shy type, I can tell you that. Even when she was a little girl, she would just talk, and talk, and not care who she was offending."

"Sounds like Bones."

"She hasn't changed much, has she?"

They both shared a small laugh as they thought about the most important woman in their lives.

"Can you do me a favor, son?" Max asked, after only a few seconds of silence.

"Yeah, of course," Booth responded.

"Well, it's actually three, but they're small jobs."

"Okay?"

"Right. The first and second thing I want you to do is give Tempe a hug and a kiss for me when you get home, and wish her a merry Christmas from me."

"I will."

"And the third one is, when your baby's born, could one of you bring me a picture?" Max asked, "I would really like to see my grandchild."

"Of course we will," Booth promised, "and hopefully you get out of here soon, so you'll be able to see the baby in person."

"Hopefully," he agreed, noticing his son-in-law glance at his watch, "oh, I'm sorry. I know you probably have last minute shopping and maybe some important FBI stuff to do. You can go. Don't waste your day here."

"Yeah, I just have a few things to pick up, and some work to do," he told him, straightening out his jacket, "and then I promised Bones I'd-" he cut himself off before he could blurt out his promise to this man's daughter about making love to her under the Christmas tree, "you know, you don't need to know this. But I'll see you soon, Max. And Bones is gonna stop by sometime this week."

"I'll be here," Max joked darkly, with a bitter chuckle, "merry Christmas, son."

Booth smiled and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder as one of the guards opened the door for him.

"Yeah, merry Christmas, dad."

* * *

Brennan and Booth's Apartment; Christmas Eve; 10:47 P.M.

* * *

As Brennan and Booth lay together on the throw blanket they had laid out next to the tree, they watched as the multi-colored lights flickered, and the star on top glittered.

"We picked a good one, right?" Booth broke the silence.

Brennan nodded, her hands resting on her stomach, keeping the baby company.

"I think we did an excellent job decorating, if I do say so myself," Brennan stroked both of their egos when she spoke, "I'm sure Parker will be happy with it."

"I'm sure he'll be even happier with his new bike," Booth complimented himself on his choice in gifts, "he's been talking about needing a new bike for months now, because he's growing out of the one he has now."

"And how do you know Rebecca didn't get him a new bike as well?"

"We discuss these things, Bones, it's not like we just blindly pick out gifts and hope for the best."

Brennan shrugged as her hands smoothed over her white tank top and she shifted a bit, feeling slightly uncomfortable all of the sudden.

"What's up, Bones?" Booth became curious when her face twisted up in displeasure.

"Nothing, I just, felt something, strange," she took a minute to contemplate it, the thought finally striking her as she sat up straight, "oh, Booth..."

Booth immediately sat up next to her, panic in his eyes.

"What? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No, no, it's just," she took her husband's hand and placed it on her stomach, "it's moving. The baby's moving. I've, never experienced this before."

Booth knew he couldn't feel it as much as she could, considering it was moving inside her, but he did feel a little something poking out from her skin, disappearing after a few seconds. He looked at her, seeing that her eyes were lit up as she placed her hand over his, holding it to her stomach so he could feel.

"That's incredible," he commented, with a small laugh of happiness, "that's, wow."

"I wonder why he's moving like that," Brennan wondered, watching her stomach, even though she couldn't see anything.

"Babies move, that's what they do," Booth shrugged, "it's just a little restless, that's all."

"I, find that I am enjoying this," her laugh was small, "I like being able to feel it move. It lets me know that something is going on in there. I am not just gaining weight and having to pee every five minutes for nothing."

"Of course there's something going on in there, Bones. There's life growing inside you. Think about it. It started off as a 'zygote' and now it's an actual baby, moving around in your belly. Isn't that incredible?"

"It's actually not in my 'belly' it's in my uterus. The baby doesn't just float around in there. There is a-"

Booth cut her off by pressing his lips to hers, cupping the side of her face gently, grateful that the kiss was enough to distract her from the squinty ran she was about to spin off into. Brennan sighed when his tongue encouraged her lips apart, slipping into her mouth to taste her uniquely Brennan taste. One of her arms found it's way around his neck, while the other slid gently down his torso and slipped up the fabric of his shirt, her fingers tracing his abdomen. She whined in disappointment when he pulled away.

"No, no, not yet," he told her, "we're exchanging gifts first."

Brennan huffed.

"Can't we make love and then exchange gifts afterwards?"

"No, I want to give you my gift now," he reached under the tree to grab one soft, malleable gift and one solid one, "which one do you want first? The baby's or yours?"

"Booth, you didn't have to get the baby a gift. It can't even see it."

"It doesn't matter. It'll see it when it's born. Now which one do you want first?"

Brennan rolled her eyes, trying to keep her hormones under control, since she knew she was about to snap at him.

"I don't care, Booth," she responded, just the slightest hint of an attitude present in her voice.

"Alright, the baby's it is," he smiled, handing her the malleable package first.

Brennan had to admit, he was doing very well with not losing his temper with her when she would give him attitude. She knew she had been unnecessarily mean to him at times, and knew that blaming it on the hormones was slightly unacceptable, but she was impressed that he never got angry with her. In fact, when she would start to act like a pregnant diva, he would usually become extra nice, making her feel like a horrible person. Tugging and tearing at the wrapping paper, she revealed a little stuffed zebra, examining it thoroughly, as if it was one of the bones on her autopsy table.

"It's very cute," she concluded, "a zebra would not maul a small child, and it is accurately colored, so it won't confuse him or her," she smiled at her husband, "I'm sure Chris will love it. It will be his or her first toy. And until then, I'll keep it safe."

"Aw, you're cute," he laughed lightly, holding her gift out to her, only to have her take it and set it next to her without opening it, "is there a problem?"

"No, I just want you to open mine first," she shrugged, handing him the little box that she had wrapped in reindeer wrapping paper, "it's just a little something."

When he unwrapped and open the box, he was noticeably surprised.

"A little something?" He asked, "Bones, it's a Rolex."

"It's not a big deal," she shrugged, "I know you always need watches, and, since it's Christmas, I figured I'd get you a nice one."

"You didn't have to spend all this money to get me a nice watch," he laughed lightly, "just a regular watch would have been fine."

"Do you not like it?"

"No, of course I like it, it's just, it's a Rolex. Those are expensive."

"I have enough money, Booth," she laughed "I can afford to buy my husband a nice gift."

Booth smiled.

"Thank you, baby," he kissed her head softly, "I love it."

"You're welcome, I figured you would," Brennan picked up her gift now, the one in the shiny red wrapping paper topped with a green bow, and unwrapped it at a nice, steady pace, "Booth, this is..." she paused, unable to come up with the words, "it's us."

He had gotten one of their wedding Polaroids printed onto a large, nicer paper, and framed it in a small, simple, silver frame.

"Turn it over," he urged.

Brennan turned the frame over, seeing that, engraved in the back, in script, it read:

_Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth_

_September 15th_

_"Everything Happens Eventually"_

Brennan ran her thumb over the words, etching them into her mind before she looked up at him with admiration in her eyes.

"I don't even know what to say," she whispered, "I love it."

"The engraving was more money than the actual frame and the fixing of the picture," he told her, "I mean, now I feel like it isn't enough, since you got me a Rolex, but-"

This time, Brennan was the one to silence him by pressing her lips to his, carefully laying the picture frame down next to the baby's stuffed zebra before she wrapped her arms around his neck, only kissing him for a minute or two before pulling away and pressing her forehead against his.

"It's enough," she promised, pecking his lips softly, "it's more than enough, Booth."

"You sure?" He asked.

"I promise, I couldn't have asked for a better gift," she kissed him again, "now I would like to make love beside the Christmas tree, okay?"

"Okay," Booth smiled, before pressing his lips back to hers, ridding both of them of their clothes, and proceeding to make love to her, exactly how he promised he would.

* * *

Brennan and Booth's Apartment; Christmas Day; 12:20 A.M.

* * *

After their love making ended, Booth couldn't help but keep his eyes locked on the small, white envelope that still remained unopened under their tree, as his wife placed soft kisses over his beating heart.

"What's the matter?" Brennan asked, sensing something was wrong.

"Nothing," he assured her, his fingers running through her hair, "I was just thinking, it's technically Christmas morning and all."

Brennan smiled, knowing exactly what he was getting at.

"You want to reveal the sex of our baby?" She asked.

"Yes, I do, so badly."

"I guess, since it's Christmas, we can," she placed a soft kiss on his lips before leaning over him to grab the envelope, wrapping the blanket they were under around her chest as he sat up next to her, both of them exchanging glances between each other before looking back at the envelope, "you ready?"

"I've been ready for three weeks," Booth laughed.

Brennan slid her finger under the top, tearing it open and pulling the paper out from inside. She unfolded it at an unintentionally slow pace, as their eyes skimmed over it at the same time. When they were finished reading they simply looked at each other and wrapped their arms tightly around one another. Booth could swear he felt a few tears touch his shoulder, but figured he was just imagining it as they held each other close.

"Are you happy?" Brennan asked, her voice trembling.

"Of course I'm happy," Booth laughed, kissing her head softly, "I would have been happy either way."

Brennan buried her face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent deeply.

"I am so happy," she whispered, "I couldn't have asked for a more perfect Christmas morning."

"Me neither," Booth assured her, stroking her back gently, "but we should probably get some sleep. Parker's coming early in the morning."

"Right, of course," Brennan agreed, "but, um, if it's not too much of a strain on your back, can we sleep here tonight?"

"Yes," Booth granted her the small request, as they both laid back down, knowing now they were too happy and were running on too much adrenaline to fall asleep.

They lay in silence, just thinking, as Booth's hands skimmed down her back, and she closed her eyes, picturing how their family was going to look in only three short months.

"Booth?" She asked.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

There was another short break of silence before Brennan continued.

"And I love Christian too."

"Me too," Booth agreed, "I love our baby boy."

"Our baby boy," she mulled over the words, a smile on her face as she felt herself finally starting to drift off, "our beautiful baby boy. Christian Seeley Booth."


End file.
